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THE HOUSE ON WHEELS ; 


OR, 

Jfar from fiome. 


FROM THE FRENCH OP MME. DE STOLZ. 

BY 

N. D’ANVERS. 


Wim FOUR FULL-PAQE ILLUSTRATIONS, 


NEW YORK: 

SCEIBNEE, WELEOED & AEMSTEONG, 
1874. 



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CONTENTS. 


Sis. 


CHAPTEE 

I. Showing how happy Adalbert was . • • 

II. Adalbert's Great Fault 

III. Adalbert is Disobedient . , • • . 

IV. Adalbert is very far away .... 

V. Adalbert at last finds out to what Disobedience 

MAY LEAD 

VI. Adalbert wonders if Gella has a Heart 
YH. Adalbert listens to the Clock striking in the 
Darkness . . . . . . , 

VIII. Madame Tourtebonne interests herself in Adal- 
bert 

IX. Adalbert is Hungry 

X. Adalbert hesitates ...... 

XI. Adalbert’s name upon the Wall 

XII. Adalbert is everywhere the subject of conver- 
sation 

XHI. Adalbert has now been Eighteen Months in the 

' ‘‘ Carriage ” 

XrV. Adalbert would have been the Fourteenth 


PAGE 

5 

10 

15 

28 

34 

40 

64 

67 

77 

89 

98 

109 

113 

121 


4 


CONTENTS. 


XV. Adalbert finds oft why Gella wrote upon the 

Ground 130 

XVI. Adalbert was there 136 

XVII. Adalbert sees the Cellar again . . , 150 

XVIII. Adalbert was not Ungrateful . •. . , ICO 

• • f • • 172 


XIX. Adalbert is Obedient 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


OE, 

FAR FROM HOME. 


CHAPTEE I. 

Showing how happy Adalbert wa3. 

It would be difficult to find a prettier place than tbe 
Lome of Adalbert’s cbildbood, set down as it was in 
Normandy with its golden fields and far-stretcbing 
meadows, and its woods and lanes full of the sweet scents 
and pleasant sounds of the country. 

All these delights, however, Adalbert shared with the 
children of the neighbourhood, for God has given the 
beauties of the open country to all the world ; what ho 
enjoyed with his brothers and sister onlyj was a large 
and beautiful house with windows opening on to a smooth 
lawn on which grew the loveliest roses imaginable, and 
on every side of which clustered tall trees, poplars, 
beeches, oaks, elms, &c., with shady paths winding in and 


6 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


out, and a running brook, so clear that the fisb could 
be seen disporting tbemselves in its waters. 

At the bottom of tbe park there was a labyrinth of 
lilac and clematis bushes where you really might lose 
yourself, there were so many windings. This labyrinth 
seemed to have been made on purpose for hide-and-seek, 
and many a game did Adalbert have at it with his 
brothers Eugene and Frederick, and his sister Camilla. 

Some fifty yards from the house was a pond on which 
floated a coquettish looking little boat painted in the 
most gorgeous colours. This boat was the chief attraction 
in the little world at Valneige, and a row in it by moon- 
light was the greatest treat it was possible to enjoy. 
Perhaps this was because that treat could only be had as 
a reward for very good marks at lessons, such as V. G. 
for very good, or E. for excellent No pleasures are so 
delightful as those which result from faithful performance 
of duty. 

Quite close to this pond was a fine farm belonging to 
Adalbert’s parents, with a large cattle-shed containing 
some dozen cow’s and a bull, of which one could not help 
being a little afraid in spite of the soft expression of its 
great dark eyes. 

A little further off was a stable, the resting-place of 
some seven or eight sturdy farm horses, and opposite to 
it a sheep-fold w^here four hundred sheep huddled 
together, leading the peaceful uneventful life in which 
they delight ; whilst in courts, and stalls, on chimneys 
and sheds, in short here, there, and everywhere, swarmed 
feathered fowl of all sorts and sizes : cocks and hens, 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME, 


7 


chickens, ducks, geese, pigeons, &c., crowing and flutter- 
ing, quarrelling, bathing, or bringing up their families 
with an amusing air of superiority to the rest of the 
world. 

Mother Barru, or in other words the farmer’s wife, v/as 
queen of this peaceful realm. A kind-hearted woman 
with a pleasant face, who was never put out except on 
two occasions : when one of the farm labourers got tipsy, 
and When a hen laid her eggs where they could not be 
found. These two misdemeanours were considered 
criminal, the offenders were in disgrace for the rest 
of the season, and a repetition of their errors would lead 
to the dismissal of the labourer and bring the hen to the 
saucepan. 

We can fancy how happy Adalbert’s early years must 
have been, divided between easy tasks and pleasant games, 
watched over by loving parents. His first grief was the 
departure for school of his brothers Eugene and 
Frederick, both older than himself, whom he loved very 
much, although he quarrelled with them whenever he got 
the chance. The big ones,” as they were called at 
Valneige, knew that they ought not to take advantage of 
their strength, and as they would be sure to hurt the 
tender little Adalbert in any struggle, the dear children 
followed their good mother’s advice and always yielded 
to him in the daily disputes about marbles, tops, and 
so on. 

As for Camilla she was goodness itself, and although 
she was nearly fourteen years old, she would often play 
at draughts with her little brother, who. sometimes con- 


8 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


founded his own men with those of his adversary; hut 
then, you see, he was only eight years old. Camilla was as 
patient as her mother, and as grave as her father, and her 
parents had such great confidence in her that they let her 
teach Adalbert his first lessons, and the boy soon took to 
calling her “ little mother.” Sometimes Camilla in talking 
about verbs, or giving a dictation, would say “my 
child” with an air of such intense gravity that her 
father laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. 

Everything was done by rule in the country ; a time 
for meals, a time for study, a time for play. Kegularity 
is certainly a most excellent thing, so there were two 
clocks kept in the house, an ordinary striking clock and 
a living clock. The first hung at the end of the hall, 
the second ran up and down stairs some thirty or forty 
times a day : it went into all the rooms, it trotted about 
everywhere, talking and scolding — it knew everything. It 
saw all that went on. What a funny clock, you say. 
It was called “ Eosette,” which means a little rose, a rose- 
bud, and must have been given to nurse — for Eosette, as 
you will have guessed, was the nurse — by some godparent 
who thought she would never grow up, as it was a strange 
name for her now that she was an old woman of seventy, 
with sunken cheeks, wrinkled forehead, and trembling 
hands. A little active woman was Eosette, rather strict, 
but very good at heart, and quite devoted to the family 
and to the house. She had been there so long that no 
one could think of Valneige without Eosette, or of 
Eosette without Valneige. The good old soul still wore 
the short petticoats, the cap fitting close round her face 


on. FAB morn home. 


9 


and gathered in at the back, and the large white handker- 
chief with red flowers folded across her chest, which had 
been the fashion in her young days and which she called 
her “ every-day ” costume. 

Eosette was as exact as possible even in the merest 
trifles. She could tell the time by the crowing of the 
cocks, the shadows cast by the trees, the cries of the 
birds, and even by an internal twitching sensation of her 
own to which she was subject at certain moments only, and 
which was invariably followed by a trembling in the legs ; 
of course, the consequence was that she was dreadfully 
strict about the keeping of every rule ever laid down. 
Had Eosette been the governor of the world there would 
have been as much fuss about everything going on so 
straight as there is now about things going askew. 

You will now understand how Eosette came to be 
called the “ living clock ” of Valneige. She really was 
even stricter than the other clock, which was but a 
machine after all, and could only strike the hours accord- 
ing to rule, but Eosette could send lazy children dawdling 
on the stairs in lesson-tiifie to their books with just a 
glance from her eye ; a sign would bring the most muti- 
nous from the other end of the park, and on occasion her 
stern voice could recall each rebel to duty however great 
the temptation to neglect it. Instead of saying “ the 
clock is going to strike,” the children would say ‘‘ Eosette 
is coming,” and the regiment would file off, arms shoul- 
dered, without a word. 

Monsieur and Madame de Valneige quite approved of 
this constant watching, which relieved them from so much 


10 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


anxiety ; and tlie children themselves, although they were 
a little afraid of the old lady when she was angry, 
were very fond of her at heart ; because she was always 
just, because she made nice sweets, and because she really 
was more ready than any one to listen to their innocent 
little fancies as long as these fancies were not indulged in 
before such a time or after such a time. Regularity above 
everything. 


CHAPTER 11. 

Adalbert’s great Fault, 

Adalbert was a nice little fellow with bright eyes, a sweet 
smile, and, when he w^as good, that happy open expression 
of countenance which makes a stranger ready to love a 
child at once. He had a trim, well-set figure too, was as 
nimble as a gazelle, expert at running, and full of winning 
ways. 

Every one was fond of him •and glad to please him, but 
for all that, when people knew him well, they discovered 
that he had one very great fault. He was disobedient. 

Instead of remembering that the people about him knew 
better than himself, he set himself up as a judge of what 
was right or wrong, and flattered himself that he might do 
what was forbidden without any evil consequences. 

He was certainly wrong there : for disobedience is in 
itself a great evil quite independently of the harm which 
generally comes of it. 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


11 


Have you ever seen a little boy afraid to meet Lis 
parent’s eyes? wLo goes to some place just because be 
has been told not to go ? who touches this or that, just 
because he has been told not to touch it ? who does not 
seem able to amuse himself except at lesson time ? who 
speaks merely for the sake of hearing his own prattle 
when he ought to be quiet ? who is full of tricks for evad- 
ing rules ? If you know such a boy you will know what 
Adalbert was like. Poor Adalbert ! I am going to tell 
you about his terrible adventures ; yes, terrible, for I assure 
you my hair stands on end when I think of the dangers 
the child incurred in consequence of his habit of dis- 
obedience. 

But there were plenty of pleasures at Valneige, I hear 
you say. Yes, plenty without going out of the way to find 
them by disobedience. The children could run about all 
round the house or in the paths and the little wood close 
by. They might have walked a good mile if they had 
chosen without exceeding their bounds. And they had a 
playground too, a regular gymnasium where they could 
stretch their limbs and gain strength and agility — a gym- 
nasium with a rope ladder ; a swing, a see-saw, and so 
on, in all of which Adalbert especially delighted. 

But the best fun was when some little friends came to 
play with the children. We all know how pleasant games 
are when each one does his best to contribute to the 
general amusement, what clever tricks are played and 
what capital new jokes are made. 

They were very fond of these children’s parties at 
Valneige, and on Thursday afternoons some three or four 


12 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


young rogues wlio happened to live close by would troop 
in with nothing better to do than play. Fine frolics they 
had on these holidays, making noise enough to deafen the 
neighbours ; and many were their wild pranks, innocent 
enough in themselves^ but sometimes rather annoying to 
the general public, Thursday was the day devoted by 
Eosette to regretting her own country, her native village, 
her very cradle, for in her old age she had taken to be- 
moaning her ill luck in having become so devotedly 
attached to these tiresome children, who,” as she said, 
“ provoked her so,” although she would not have left them 
for the world. 

Eosette, as is sometimes the case with us all, was torn 
asunder by conflicting feelings. On the one hand, she 
could not help devoting herself to some one, and on the 
other she felt bound to regret that devotion from morning 
till night. If one of her little darlings was in trouble, if he 
tumbled down, for instance, and grazed his nose a little, the 
old lady would weep over the wound as she did her best to 
heal it, and then would feel quite aggrieved with the nose 
for getting hurt because she, forsooth, had suffered with it. 

“ Ah !” she would often say, “ what a pity I ever knew 
these children! It was well worth my while certainly to 
stay when my old master died, to live with his son and 
make mischief. I had enough to live on quietly, I might 
have taken my ease in a little house of my own, and have 
had a little garden, some chickens, and a cat. Instead of 
that, I must needs go and stay here, and why, I should like 
to know ? But it’s over now — I have relations in my old 
home who will be glad enough to have me. I have made 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


13 


up my mind, and I’ve told Master. As -soon as ever it 
thaws I shall be off!” 

So she would talk in winter, and when the frost broke up 
some tease asked her : 

“Well, Eosette, when do you start?” 

She would answer as the case might be. “ Frederick’s 
tooth-ache is too bad ; I must put cotton wool soaked in 
warm sweet oil in his ear every night, poor little fellow !” 
... or, “ Well, when I see Miss Camilla really holding 
herself straight shall pack up, but lam so afraid of her 
growing crooked ;” . . . or, “ When that young rogue 
Adalbert leaves off being disobedient I shall go, but until 
then I must watch him like a pot on the fire.” 

And so the poor old lady talked ; and the snow melted, 
the young shoots budded, the leaves turned yellow, the trees 
became bare, and still she was there, bound to the spot by 
the strongest chains ever rivetted — those of true and long- 
tried affection. 

Every Thursday, that is to say fifty-two times a year, 
Eosette discovered that she did not care a bit for Valneige, 
not a bit ! How was that ? Because on that day things 
did not go on with the usual regularity ; and the children 
were allowed to play from twelve o’clock till dinner-time ; 
now, a good romp is just the thing to lead to torn 
trousers or fractures of every variety, broken bones and so 
on. This is why the good creature kept saying to herself 
on Wednesday : 

“ What a pity to-morrow is Thursday 1” 

As for us, we think these games must have been capital 
fun, but then we had not to take care of the children. 


14 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


Madame de Valneige provided the little people with battle- 
doors and shuttlecocks, balloons, tops, skittles, hoops, and I 
don’t know what else. The games began at 12 o’clock, and 
every now and then the dear mother came to look on like 
a guardian angel who brings all manner of good things 
and wards off all evil. She would say gravely but kindly . 

“ Amuse yourselves as much as you like, dear children, 
do just what pleases you, but remember my one rule and 
be obedient.” 

And Eugene, a boy with bright eyes, rosy cheeks, and 
a frank smile, would reply with a merry laugh, ‘‘ Don’t 
be afraid, mother dear, we shall be so busy amusing our- 
selves, we shan’t have time to think of being disobedient.” 
Then taking the bit between his teeth if he were a horse, 
or cracking his whip if he were the driver, away dashed 
Eugene and was out of sight almost before his mother 
could smile her approval. About Frederick, who was 
always grave and quiet even at play, Madame de Valneige 
was never anxious ; but there was one pretty, fair-haired 
little fellow who never took any notice of his mother’s 
gentle warning. His name was Adalbert, but he v/rs nick- 
named the disobedient. 

When any remarks were made on his chief fault, he 
would assume an air of indifference, try to catch a fly, and 
take care to hear as little as possible, although he knew 
perfectly well all that was being said. 

“ Children, be obedient.” That meant : don’t go to play 
near the edge of the water, take care you never touch the 
boat. Don’t go into the stable without Philip ; don’t go 
close to the horses’ heels, as they might kick you ; don’t ride 


OB, FAB FBOM EOME, 


15 


on the horses unless Philip gives you leave and has time 
to take care of you. Don’t lean over the edge of a well ; 
don’t go beyond the railings which divide the playground 
from the road ; don’t run too far from the others when you 
are out walking ; don’t go too near a windmill, &c. 

Adalbert knew all these rules by heart, and whenever he 
heard his mother sum them all up in the simple words, 
“ Children, be obedient,” he felt disposed to stop his ears as 
if that would help him to escape their meaning, for he had 
the greatest longing to do just what he was told not, and 
we shall presently see what came of it. 


CHAPTER III. 

Adalbert is Disobedient. 

However delightful our daily life may be, it is always 
rather a relief to have a change even in our pleasures. 
Imagine, then, what transports of delight every one was 
in when M. de Valneige declared one fine morning at 
breakfast that he was going to carry out a plan which 
had long been under discussion, but the execution of 
which had been constantly deferred. This plan com- 
bined everything that was most attractive, it would be 
most charming when the time came, and it Avas nice to 
look forward to it. Indeed, for more than a year it had 
been discussed by the little people, now in whispers, now 
in loud eager voices : “ When, when, shall we go on tho 

grand journey? when shall we see Paris, Strasburg, 

0 


16 


TEE EOtfSE on WHEELS; 


Vienna, Prague, tlie lakes, tke mountains ? ” . • . and at 
the very thought of them the children would jump up 
from their chairs, even if they were at their writing, of 
course sometimes making a sad blot in consequence. 

But now, now it was decided ; they were really going to 
start for Germany, travelling slowly, so as not to tire 
themselves, and with no other aim than to improve them- 
selves without any lessons, and to amuse themselves. 
Madame de Valneige, it is true, who was very anxious to 
take this journey, had private reasons of her own for it ; 
she was uneasy about her husband’s health, and the 
doctors thought change of air and scene would be the 
best cure for a certain nervous melancholy, sometimes 
accompanied by fever, from which M. de Valneige was 
suffering. His wife carefully concealed her own anxiety 
lest she should communicate it to him and make him 
worse ; and the children never suspected that their father 
was not as well as anybody else as he did not stay in bed 
or dress differently from other people. 

When the decision was announced, the children clapped 
their hands; and when their father added, “We shall start 
in a week,” they flung their arms round his neck. 

A week later, the family were on their way, taking 
with them the faithful Gervais, a confidential servant, and 
everybody was delighted except old Eosette, who shed 
many tears, when “her four children,” as she called them, 
left her. As soon as they were out of sight, she looked 
upon them as lost . . . and if she could have foreseen 
. . . poor old soul • .. • but no, we won’t let out the 
secret. 


on, FAR Fno3i no3m 


17 


They stayed ten days in Paris, and the children were 
greatly delighted with all they saw in their walks. The 
difference in their ages and acquirements of course greatly 
affected their way of looking at things. For instance, 
when they passed the Tuileries, Adalbert only just 
glanced at the historical monuments, and could scarcely 
take his eyes off the gold fishes swimming in the 
ornamental pieces of water, and the stately swans, whose 
ancestors had witnessed so many great events without 
ever learning anything about the history of France. He 
was also very much astonished at the length of the 
Champs-Elysees, at the crowd, the carriages, and so forth, 
but what struck him most of all, and that in a very dis- 
agreeable manner, was, that somebody always would hold 
his hand. This seemed to him positively unbearable, and 
in his opinion detracted considerably from the splendours 
of the capital. Was he, who had had so much liberty at 
Valneige, come to Paris to be treated like a little girl ? 
A man like him, it was a shame ; poor little fellow — if he 
had only guessed . . . but no, the time to tell has not 
come yet. 

After seeing everything in Paris, in which children 
most delight, M. de Valneige made for the east of France, 
and after stopping at all the interesting places by the 
way, the party finally arrived at Strasburg, where they 
had the pleasure of seeing the beautiful Cathedral, with 
its round arched Komanesque choir and exquisitely finished 
Gothic nave and transepts. 

The large astronomical clock,- with its moving figures 
always set in motion at noon, astonished and delighted 

c 2 


18 


TEE HOWE ON WHEELS; 


the young travellers far more than the west front with its 
famous window, or the celebrated open work spire ; and as 
for little Adalbert, he thought nothing of Vauban’s 
scientific pentagon citadel, and had eyes but for one 
thing in Strasburg, and that was the cock in one of 
the side towers, which always sang when the wonderful 
clock struck twelve, and all the apostles appeared 
together. 

Fancy a cock which could sing! It was really too 
ridiculous ! 

Sp the little man was delighted, not exactly with 
Strasburg, but with the cock which to him represented 
Strasburg. One disagreeable thing, there was, however, 
even about this grand and beautiful town, and that was — 
he had to hold somebody's hand. 

From Strasburg they went to Vienna, stopping by the 
way as they had done in the journey from Paris. M. do 
Valueige decided to stay eight days at least in the capital 
of Austria, so that there was plenty of time to see every- 
thing, and to wander about the beautiful Prater, and other 
pleasure gardens. The children did not know how to 
admire the wild Prater enough, part of which is nothing 
more than an old forest in which graze stags and roe-deer, 
who combine the joys of domestic life with plenty of free- 
dom. Every evening a horn is sounded the meaning of 
which the animals fully understand, and they come troop- 
ing up from all sides to share the fodder provided for 
them near the house. Eugene and Frederick thought 
that^most charming, and we quite agree with them. 

M. do Valnoigo t ook his Jboys over the Imperial Arsenal, 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


19 


which contains manufactories of all kinds of weapons. 
They spent some three hours in examining them, and 
before they left the building had made up their minds to 
prepare themselves for admission to the military school of 
St. Cyr. 

Madame de Valneige was anxious to visit the environs 
of Vienna, and as the whole party were ea^er to ac- 
company her, they went by train along the line which 
skirts the right bank of the Danube. First, they saw the 
Imperial Palace of Schonbrunn, completed under Maria 
Theresa, in one of the rooms of which Napoleon signed 
the treaty of Schonbrunn in 1809 ; and where also, 
strange comment on the instability of human affairs, his 
son the Duke of Eeichstadt died twenty-three years later. 
Adalbert, who was far too young to care much about 
historical contrasts, was more struck with the thirty-two 
marble statues amongst the palm-trees of the gardens, with 
the obelisk, the beautiful fountain from which the palace 
derives its name, and above all, with the lions, tigers, and 
other animals in the menagerie. 

The Castle of Luxembourg was also visited, and here 
what Adalbert noticed most were the old golden carps 
which he saw in a pond on his way back to the station. 
He fed them with bread, as he had the little gold fishes 
at the Tuileries, which simple refreshment they were 
graciously pleased to accept. 

The week at Vienna passed very quickly, and from 
there the party went to Prague, stopping at all the largo 
stations by the way, Adalbert left Vienna without 
regret ; he had had a great annoyance to put up with in 


20 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


tlie capital of Austria ... lie had had to hold somebody’s 
hand ! You see what an independent little fellow he 
was, obedience was positive torture to him. Poor, poor 
Adalbert ! 

They were all very pleased when they entered Bohemia. 
As Camilla said, there was something very quaint and 
interesting, perhaps even a little appalling, in this name ; 
and she had a kind of fancy that the country was peopled 
entirely by fortune-tellers. 

English children would not have the same feeling about 
the word Bohemia, so we must explain that Bohemians is 
the French name for gipsies, and that a great many gipsies 
live in Bohemia ; never mixing much with the Bohemians 
or Czechs, but leading a wild wandering life of their own. 

But, to return to our travellers. They were now in 
Bohemia, and were greatly charmed with Prague, which 
presents a most picturesque appearance, built as it is in 
terraces on the slopes of the hills, on either side of the 
Moldau ; its palaces, its lofty towers and turrets, rising 
above the private houses and bridges. Besides, it was 
quite different from anything the children had seen 
in France, and made them feel that they were really a 
long way from home. 

What chiefly tickled Adalbert’s fancy, however, was 
not being able to understand what the people he passed 
said to each other, as some talked Bohemian and some 
German. 

“I am happy now,” said the little man, half in fun 
and half in earnest; ‘‘I am happy now, because I am 
really in foreign parts.” 


OBy FAB FBOM HOME, 


21 


All the more reason for keeping hold of somebody’s 
nand,” replied Camilla, who, with true feminine instinct, 
shared her mother’s constant anxiety about the dis- 
obedient little boy. It was not much use talking, 
though, as he never listened, and it required a positive 
order from his papa or mamma to make him submit to 
have his hand held ; again and again, he would run off 
to look at this or that, until at last a state of feud was 
produced between him and the elders, a feud not always 
carried on with perfect politeness. 

The bridge with sixteen arches across the Moldau 
attracted a good deal of attention from our travellers, and 
of course, as they were Koman Catholics, they did not 
neglect to pay a tribute of respect to the bronze statue of 
St. John of Nepomuk, the patron saint of Bohemia, who 
was drowned in the Moldau by order of the Emperor 
Wenceslas, because he would not betray the secrets which 
had been confided to him as a confessor. 

The Hradschin, or palace district, as the quarter 
occupied by the nobility is called, was duly visited, as 
well as the Cathedral, which is a fine Gothic building, 
dating from the fourteenth century, and much resembling 
that of Cologne. 

Adalbert’s mamma also took care to make her little 
son kneel before the relics of St. Adalbert in the little 
octagon chapel in the nave, and as he stared about him 
as children of his age will, the poor woman, her face 
hidden in her hands, prayed for him with mute earnest- 
ness as if she foresaw the misfortune in store for her. 

The royal tomb of marble and alabaster, beneath which 


22 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


so many of the great ones of the earth have found their 
last resting-place, was also duly admired. 

A cannon-ball hanging by a chain from a pillar, which 
had fallen into this church during the Seven Years’ War, 
attracted the attention of Eugene and Frederick, and 
even that of their sturdy little brother. Camilla burst out 
with a declaration she had often made before: that she 
hated war, it was a detestable thing, and her mother gave 
her a look full of sympathy. 

The first day the party merely made a cursory in- 
spection of the city of Prague, so as to get a good 
general idea of it; they meant to rest there a week, 
and then to set out on their return journey. The season 
was rapidly advancing, the days were drawing in, and it 
was getting cold; it was time to get back to their own 
country and their own fireside, that best possession of 
rich and poor. 

Towards the evening, M. de Yalneige and his boys, 
the ladies being overcome with fatigue, made an excursion 
to the suburb of Karolinenthal on the north-east of the 
city. It was just at the time when the labourers were 
leaving their work, and M. de Yalneige called the 
attention of the elder boys to the troops of artisans 
making their way through the straight well-built streets, 
whilst Adalbert was intently observing all the little 
incidents which catch the eyes of children : a horse 
falling down, a dog being whipped, and so on. When 
his mother and sister stayed at home he had a little more 
freedom, his father did not always remember to keep 
hold of his hand although it had been made a rule to 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


23 


do so at the beginning of the journey, and as for his 
brothers, they agreed in a whisper that this wise regula- 
tion must be a great nuisance, and were, in short, 
altogether lax in their interpretation of the law. 

On this particular evening Adalbert was more tempted 
to disobey than ever, and he yielded to the temptation, 
staying behind on purpose when his father was occupied 
in showing his brothers a huge barrack capable of hold- 
ing a whole regiment of soldiers. 

A man was offering birds for sale just where Adalbert 
stopped, a far more amusing sight than a barrack. 

“ Oh, how pretty they are ! Look at that red one ; 
and that green one ; oh, what a beautiful tail T 

Unfortunately, two lovely little birds had just challenged 
each other to single combat, and our future soldier, without 
having incjuired into the merits of the dispute, took the 
most eager interest in the duel. One wore a tuft, the 
other wore none, that was all the difference; they 
seemed very well matched, and as no foreign power 
was likely to interfere, the affair might last a considerable 
time and cost one of the combatants, perhaps both, his 
life. This was the very thing to delight our little 
‘‘officer;” he mentally espoused the cause of the tuft, 
and gravely criticised the strokes from the beaks which 
showered upon the field of battle. The tuft got a 
momentary advantage, but not having known how to 
remain on the defensive, it fell a victim to a simulated 
retreat, and finally got the worst of it, and fell on to the 
fine sand at the bottom of his cage. At this catastrophe 
Adalbert suddenly remembered he had remained behind 


24 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


alone, and tore himself away from the place of tempta- 
tion. 

But the bird- seller was standing where several roads 
met, and which ought Adalbert to take? The child 
took that on the right, and not seeing his father or 
brothers he turned back and tried another with no better 
success. Then he thought he would ask somebody his 
way . . . but how could he do that, he had only arrived 
in the morning and had noticed nothing; he could not 
even remember the difficult name of the hotel at which 
he was staying. At last he spoke to some of the artisans 
who, more fortunate than himself, were returning to 
their houses. They did not understand. He now began 
to realise painfully that he was in a foreign country, one 
quite strange to him ! His heart sank and he felt very 
much inclined to cry, but he did not cry ; he walked on 
and on, until at last, when he was really quite worn out, 
he saw a tall man coming towards him, who looked at 
him very attentively, and at last addressed him in broken 
French. Adalbert answered him, the man listened 
attentively, and presently the little fellow, looking up 
in his new acquaintance’s face with confiding eyes, let 
him take his little hand and lead him away fast, fast, 
faster. 

* # # 

All this time M. de Yalneige was hurrying through 
the streets close by, a prey to the most terrible anxiety. He 
would soon have found Adalbert, had not the boy un- 
fortunately taken quite an opposite direction. The 
unhappy father rushed backwards and forwards followed 


oil, FAB FROM HOME. 


25 


by his sons, whose fright can easily be imagined. M. 
de Valneige knew but little German, only just enough 
for the ordinary necessities for travelling, and that he 
found quite inadequate for putting strangers on the 
track of a lost child. At last he tried to persuade 
himself that the boy had managed to find his way back 
to the hotel, and was sitting quietly between his mother 
and sister. They therefore turned towards the hotel, 
striding along side by side without exchanging a word. 

But when they arrived M. de Valneige had not the 
courage to go upstairs. He did not know how to meet 
his wife. . . . She started up as he came into the room 
looking pale and exhausted, and understanding the 
question which trembled on his lips before it was spoken, 
she exclaimed in accents of despair : “ He is lost 

There are moments in life which defy description. 
None but a father or a mother could realise the misery 
caused by this loss of a child, removed not by death, 
but by accident. When a child dies those whom he 
leaves behind know where he has gone, the suffering is 
all on their side, he has nothing more to bear, his parents 
know he is well off, and their tears are not altogether 
bitter ; but when he iS lost, lost in this world, so full of 
evil and of evil-doers, it is indeed terrible ! 

Without allowing himself a moment’s rest M. de 
Valneige, accompanied by Gervais, resumed his search 
in the town. He was in fact in that state of feverish 
excitement, when fatigue is absolutely unfelt; and the 
good Gervais, scarcely less moved, kept heaving the 
most profound sighs at the thought of the poor little 


26 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


fellow he had known from a baby. M. de Valneige 
hastened to put the matter in the hands of the 
authorities, and his heart sank indeed as he described 
the appearance of his little son, and gave every detail 
likely to lead to his identification: he was fair, with 
a pink and white complexion, a dimple in his left cheek, 
a slight dint in his chin, bright brown eyes and a voice 
as soft as a little girl’s, which contrasted strangely with 
his hardy, active frame. He looked more like a child of 
seven than the boy past eight he really was. He wore 
a suit of dark blue clothes and a plain linen collar, 
which he had stained with ink just before he went out, 
making a little blot scarcely noticeable in front on the 
leffc corner. Ever since he was baptized he had worn 
a gold medal round his neck, representing the Virgin 
with outstretched arms and drooping head. It was given 
to him by his mother with a prayer that her child might 
be kept from evil in the world, and if possible be 
allowed to survive her ; and now, poor woman, he was 
lost, her little darling, her last-born child, was gone! 
Perhaps, perhaps, alas ! he had been carried off by rough 
men who would make him share their wretched life, 
who would beat his poor little body I and teach him all 
manner of bad ways and wicked words ! ... At this 
last thought the poor mother felt her courage falter ; she 
would rather have seen her boy perish before her eyes 
than think of him in the hands of men who would make 
his childhood one long martyrdom, and perhaps in the 
end lead him into crime. 

Alas ! M. de Valneige returned to his hotel in a state 


OB, FAB FBOM HOMF. 


27 


of profound discouragement ; no one had seen the child, 
no trace of him had been found. It was a most mysteri- 
ous affair, and no one knew what to make of it. Every 
effort would be made to find out what direction he had 
taken, but there was nothing for the unhappy parents to 
do but to wait. To wait, to wait I when they did not 
know whether a child they loved better than themselves 
was still alive ; whether he was suffering, calling for his 
parents I Truly such waiting was a daily death. 

A week passed by ; a fortnight, [a month, two months, 
three : still no sign, no renewal of hope. And at last the 
unfortunate family were compelled to return to France, 
after making every possible arrangement for constant 
and rapid communication with Prague. Every one was 
however convinced that the little fellow had been carried 
off to some distance, and that he could only be found 
again by some providential accident. 

The spring came round again and Valneige resumed its 
wonted beauty ; the trees budded, the birds sang, all was 
again life and motion, but to three mourners these things 
had lost their charm. Poor old Kosette, more irritable 
and more lean and shrivelled than ever, fidgetted about, 
accusing herself and everybody else of negligence ; 
M. de Yalneige, his spirits completely broken, had 
become grave and taciturn, the melancholy to which ho 
had been occasionally subject was now habitual; his 
business was neglected ; his schemes for the future were 
abandoned ; and grave fears were entertained respecting 
his health, which had long been failing. Whilst the poor 
mother went about doing all she had to do for her 


28 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


husband, her children, the house, and the poor, with a 
heavy heart, striving to hide her suffering by a smile 
more touching in its gentle sadness than her tears. With 
a strength not her own, she controlled every rebellious 
thought, neglecting not the smallest duty. From her first 
waking moment to her last, her life w^as one earnest 
prayer, forming an under-current to every thought and 
every action. Her yearning after her poor boy was 
expressed in all she did or said; in her devotion to the 
poor and suffering, in her noble courage to endure ; but it 
was in the silence of the night that this yearning became 
most intense, then her tears might flow unchecked ; she 
need no longer crush down her sobs, and on her knees 
before the altar alone with God, her cry went up in the 
simple words : “ Oh, my God 1 Adalbert I ” and she knew 
that she was understood. 


CHAPTEE IV. 

Adalbert is very far away. 

Everything is an event in a village; a commotion is 
created even if a hen tries to crow like a cock, and she is 
quickly killed lest evil should come of it. Imagine, then, 
the excitement at Valneige on the disappearance of little 
Adalbert. 

Nothing was talked of but this sad adventure, and 
endless were the theories respecting it, in which of course 
the marvellous played a considerable part; for simple 
country folk are credulous and superstitious. 


on, FAU FliOM HOMF. 


29 


One day a woman came to E ysette to say to her : 

“ Look here, Eosette, your little one isn’t lost !” 

At these words the old nurse pushed her spectacles on 
to her forehead, as she always did when she wanted to 
see more clearly. It was no good to suggest that she 
should keep them in a drawer, she wouldn’t hear of such 
a thing. For fifteen years she had worn spectacles, and 
she always fixed them firmly on her nose the first thing 
in the morning. In the course of the day she wore them for 
going in the garden or up and down stairs, but when 
she had to pay special attention to anything, to distinguish 
faces or colours, up went the spectacles directly. The good 
old creature really seemed to set nearly as much store by 
them as by her eyes. 

Mother Godinette took a chair because the talk appeared 
likely to be long. 

“ Well, Eosette,” began Mother Godinette, when she had 
comfortably settled herself, “ I am going to tell you some- 
thing I’ve told no one else.” 

This was how Godinette, who spoke very slowly, always 
began her sentences, and every one knew how much to 
trust to her discretion. Whenever the old woman kept 
anything to herself it was because she happened to be (][uite 
alone. 

“ Listen, Eosette, and I’ll tell you what happened to 
me, to me, I say. Last night I dreamt . . . but first I 
must tell you I had a pain in my legs, you can’t think what 
a dreadful pain ; first in the calves, you know ! oh, dear ; 
well . . . listen . . . there were dogs biting me, and 
I tossed about in bed like a pancake in a frying-pan, and 


80 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


I rubbed myself and rubbed myself . . . you know tliere’s 
nothing like rubbing when you’ve got a pain in your legs : 
it may be the cramp ? Wliat do you do, Eosette, when 
you have a pain in your legs ?” 

“ Oh, I rub myself . . . but what were you going to tell 
me?” 

“ Y/ell, as I was turning over, I said to myself, I wonder 
what time it is. It must be late ; I wish I could drop 
off to sleep. I am sure it must be past twelve. I hadn’t, 
in fact, an idea what the time was, but you know how one 
guesses when one lies awake. Presently I heard the parish 
clock strike. I counted on my fingers ; one, two, three, 
four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten . . 

Eleven, twelve,” added Eosette suddenly, who was on 
thorns to know what was coming. 

“ Yes, ten, eleven, twelve. Well you are clever to guess 
that ; who’d have thought it ? ” 

“But what happened after that? you said that our 
little . . .” 

“ Not so fast, not so fast, Eosette ; you needn’t be in 
such a hurry ...” 

“ A hurry !” cried poor Eosette ; “ when you go on like 
that . . . but never mind, let’s hear the rest . . .” 

“ Well, when I found that it was only twelve, I said to 
myself, Eeally now, I thought it was much later. Night’s 
the time for sleep, I must get to sleep. Bother my legs ! 
and I did all I could to go off. I opened my eyes, I shut 
them, I opened them again, I coughed, I blew my nose, 
I rubbed myself, it wasn’t a bit of good 1 ” 

“ You said that . • 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


31 


“ I said it wasn’t a bit of good . • 

“ Yes, but about our boy ? ” 

“ Patience, I say ! At last I went to sleep again.” 

“ Ab, wliat a comfort ! ” 

“ But I bad bardly gone off before I woke up again.” 

“ Ob, wbat a pity ! ” 

“ Well, I tried to go to sleep again. I turned over and 
over, I opened my eyes, I shut them, I coughed, I blew 
my nose, I rubbed myself . . 

“ And then ? ” 

“ Then I went to sleep again, and I dreamt that I was 
walking in a beautiful garden where there was a large 
pond, a great big one, bigger than I ever saw : but you 
know bow one dreams, don’t you ? ” 

Yes, yes, and then ? . . .” 

‘‘ Well, the pond was as long as from here to the end 
of the road ; but wbat am I saying . . as long as from 
here to . . . to . . .” 

“ To the end of the world, go on, do go on. . .” 

‘‘Yes, that’s it, to the end of the world ; she always 
knows wbat to say. Well, by the pond I saw a fox, and 
I said to myself, A fox, is it really a fox ? and at that very 
instant I saw your little boy with a basket on bis bead 
. . . you know those baskets in which they put . . 

“ Ob yes, I know, I know'.” 

“ You know, you say . . . well, they put . . . wbat da 
they put in them ?” 

“ Ob ! anything they like.” 

“ You’re right there ; as soon as it’s a basket, they put 
anything they like in it. But after all, that’s nothing to 
do with my story.” 

D 


32 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


“ Well then, let it pass, what next ? . . .” 

“ Well, he caught sight of the fox, and he was 
frightened and let his basket drop, and it fell head- 
foremost into the water. . . 

Poor little fellow ! ” 

“ What did you say ? Poor little fellow — it was the 
basket.” 

“Well, never mind ; you said headforemost, you know.” 

“ Only for fun ! Well, the fox came towards me, 
limping along, poor creature, as if he had hurt his i)aw ; 
so I said to myself. Perhaps its paw has been broken 
by the hunters . . . and, talking of hunters, have you 
heard . . . ?” 

“What?” 

“ They say two hunters were coming home through the 
woods the other evening, and they met a stray dog which 
fought with their dogs, and they were bitten.” 

“ Poor beasts ! ” 

“ What are you thinking of, Kosette ? Beasts ! I was 
talking about men.” 

“ Poor fellows, then !” 

“ And the dogs were bitten too.” 

“ Well, poor dogs and poor men ! But our boy ?” 

“ Wait a bit. Then they saw in the darkness a great 
yellow ball like a little moon whirling about in the air, a 
metelor they call it, or a meteor, or something, the name 
doesn’t make any difference in the thing.” 

“ Perhaps that’s as well, but what’s the meteor got to 
do with our dear little boy !” 

“ What’s it got to do with him ? Why everything of 
course, it proves that he’ll come back. A yellow ball 


OiZ, FAU FROM HOME, 


83 


doesn’t wliirl about in the sky for nothing! But, now 
listen, I haven’t doue. As he was walking backwards 
the fox . . 

“ What, the fox again ! You are going on with your 
dream then ?” 

Of course I am ; the fox — it’s enough to make one 
laugh 1” 

“ And the mad dog ?” 

“ Oh, that was a real dog 1” 

‘•So much the worse I” 

“ Well, the fox ...” 

“ Come, come, leave the fox alone no^v, and let us talk 
about my poor little fair-haired boy. Tell me what you 
know about him.” 

“ About him ! Oh, I don’t know anything about him ; 
how should I, when he was lost in Germany ? But that’s 
not much matter though, it is so far off ; for when you see 
signs in the heavens, you may be quite sure the child 
isn’t lost 1” 

This unsatisfactory conversation was still going on 
when M. de Valneige happened to pass by. Always 
gloomy and anxious, he was at once struck by the fussy, 
important air of Mother Godinette’, and Eosette, noticing 
his look of inquiry, repeated what the old woman had 
just said ; without, however, making any allusion to the 
wakefulness, the striking of the clock, the pains in the 
legs, or the fox; but her master replied sadly enough 
that there was no connection between the meteor and the 
poor lost child, adding that the fact to which they referred 
was nothing so extraordinary after all, but a well-known 


34 


TEE BOUSE ON WHEELS; 


atmospheric phenomenon, to which it was foolish and 
superstitious to attach undue importance. 

Godinette, slightly piqued, but by no means convinced, 
made her courtesy, and went off to tell her dream, and talk 
about the yellow ball to some one else ; and as for good 
old Eosette, finding the talk was at an end, she settled her 
spectacles back on her nose, and resumed her everlasting 
knitting. 


CHAPTEE V. 

Adalbert at last finds out to what Disobedience 

MAY LEAD. 

Whilst the Yalneige family were in the depths of despair, 
searching Prague and its environs for dear little Adalbert, 
where was he ? 

No one knew except the wretch who had carried him 
off, and torn him from his loving parents. Some evil, 
however, was certain, sooner or later, to befall a little boy 
who was so often disobedient. The very day he was lost 
he had disobeyed eight times, and as he did not happen to 
be found out he escaped punishment for the time, but, as 
we shall see, only for the time. 

This was how things came about : 

We lost sight of Adalbert just as a man of about fifty, 
wrapped in a coarse woollen cloak, was leading him away 
fast, fast, faster. . . . This man’s face had a sinister 
expression, and there was nothing prepossessing about 
him ; but then he spoke a little French, and the poor child, 


OB, FAB FBOM EOME. 


35 


in his great distress never dreaming of false play, followed 
him in silence. On they walked, so far that the poor little 
legs began to give way, and at last, worn out with fatigue, 
fright, and hunger, and discouraged by the gloomy silence 
of his guide, the child suddenly burst into tears. 

“ You are crying,” said the stranger, in a tone of assumed 
kindness, looking at him from beneath the broad-brimmed 
hat which shaded his dark face, and again assuring him 
that he knew where his parents were, and was taking him 
back to them, the man made him rest a little in a 
miserable, half-dark inn. The child was exhausted for 
want of food, and his guide gave him something to eat and 
drink, the effect of which was to produce a heavy stupor, 
which soon became a profound sleep. This was the very 
thing the man wanted, and taking the unconscious victim 
in his arms, he wrapped him carefully in his cloak, that 
he might look like a sick child, and carried him rapidly 
towards the railway station. 

And after that ? what happened after that ? where was 
he taken ? . . . He slept on, and when at last he woke he 
found himself in a mountainous country, and saw men like 
his guide passing backwards and forwards in the darkness. 
His questions were unanswered, and he was frightened out 
of his senses. At last, after many turnings, he saw a big 
carriage, a kind of house on wheels with windows and 
window-blinds. The dark man thumped at the door, 
saying a few words in the gipsy dialect. It was opened 
at once by an ill-favoured boy with an habitual sneer upon 
his face, and Adalbert was lifted into the “carriage” 
by an iron hand, to find himself in a narrow passage 


36 


THE HOUSE ON V/ HEELS; 


v/itli wretched little cupboards, called rooms, opening 
into it. 

A very ugly, wrinkled old woman, with a skin which 
was almost black, said a few words to him in bad French, 
much as if she were speaking to a dog. He didn’t quite 
understand her ; he only felt an intense longing to go 
down the steps he had just climbed up to get into the 
“ carriage,” but the door was shut. The imprudent little 
fellow then looked at the old woman, and said in a 
commanding voice : “ Open that door !” 

“ No, no, no ! ” cried the old hag ; once up here, you’re 
up here for always !” 

‘‘ For always ! ” repeated Adalbert indignantly, and the 
whole dreadful truth flashing upon him at once, he flung 
up his arms and screamed aloud* 

A dirty wrinkled hand was clasped over his mouth, and 
terrible words fell upon his ears. 

The child shuddered, and did not know what to think. 
All his ideas were turned upside down, and, half from 
terror, half from astonishment, he lost all consciousness. 

As his eyes closed, the dirty hand which had enforced 
silence was removed from his lips, but only to seize a 
jug of bitter cold water and fling it into his face. The 
dear little boy opened his eyes again, looked round about 
as if for his mother, and then, the hot tears pouring down 
his cheeks, he said very humbly : 

Please ma’am, let me go back to mamma.” 

A shout of laughter greeted this, and with cruel irony 
the old Praxede, as she was called, shouted in his ear : 

“ Go to your mamma, then ! run, run along 1” 


OIi\ FAR FBOM HOME. 


37 


At this the prisoner saw that all was over, and knew 
that he was stolen. 

This old woman, who looked like an evil hxiry, was the 
mother-in-law of the man in the broad-brimmed hat, 
the grandmother, not of Gella, the master’s daughter, but 
of her brother Karik, and so-called guardian of two poor 
children, a little boy called Natches and a little girl 
called Tilly, who had fallen into the hands of the robbers 
much as Adalbert had done. 

The new captive’s grief was so intense that he left off 
complaining, and sank into a state of silent misery. He 
had, however, plenty of moral courage, and he mentally 
resolved, with the energy of despair, to escape sooner 
or later. 

His body, it is true, was small and slight, but then he 
had great force of will, and felt that he could surmount 
many obstacles. Now, however, there was nothing to 
say and nothing to do. 

“You are ill, go and lie down,” said old PraxMe, 
roughly pointing to a heap of rags and old clothes in 
a corner of the wretched room. Adalbert did not want 
telling twice this time, rightly feeling that there was 
nothing for it but to yield. As there were no bed-clothes, 
he did not undress, but stretched himself upon the rags, 
taking care to cover his feet with some old petticoats to 
keep them warm, and putting his little hand under his 
cheek that his face might not touch the dirty tatters. 

As soon as he laid down he shut his eyes, and as ho 
kept very still they thought he was asleep. He did not 
understand a word that passed, as the gipsies only spoke 


38 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


their own dialect; but somehow he felt that Gella had 
a kind feeling for him, and was trying to soften the 
grandmother’s anger. The young girl had rather mascu- 
line manners, and when she spoke loud her voice had the 
harsh sound peculiar to those who have to cry out in 
streets, but on the whole there was much that was taking 
about her, and so thought Adalbert as he peeped at 
her now and then from beneath his eye-lashes. 

Gella was a tall girl of twenty, with a fine figure, as 
slender and supple as a young sapling, the beauty of 
which even her rags did not disguise. Thick raven 
locks fell over her face and neck, which were bronzed by 
exposure to the sun and wind ; her mouth, though far 
from pretty, had a frank and pleasing expression, espe- 
cially when she smiled, and her eyes, calm and gentle 
when at rest, could flash defiance on occasion. 

Gella was the daughter of the gipsy’s first wife, who 
had died almost immediately after the birth of her child. 
Her husband, contrary to the usual custom of his tribe, 
had married her although she was not of gipsy blood, but 
a native of Lyons. An orphan of sixteen in wretched cir- 
cumstances, she had accepted his offer in her inexperience ; 
and her elder sister, although she had disapproved of the 
union, took an interest in Gella, and now and then sent 
her some token of remembrance. 

Altogether, then, Gella’s appearance made a favourable 
impression upon the little prisoner ; he felt he could trust 
her, although he was half afraid of her. Her black eyes 
and, heavy eyebrows, with her abrupt way of speaking, 
frightened him ; but her round arms looked as if they 



OELLA UAS A TALL GIRL OF 'l^VEXTY. 


To face page 38 





OB, FAB FB03I m3IF, 


89 


would fold a cliild to lier heart who flew to her for 
shelter : that is to say, if she had a heart. 

Adalbert made sure she must have, because he wished 
it so very, very much, and he consoled himself with the 
thought : One of these days I’ll tell her I want to run 

away, and she will help me to escape ; and if she won’t 
help me, I must manage alone.” 

But then he remembered his wanderings in Prague, 
and the troubles he had got into through not knowing his 
WT-y or understanding the language of the country, and 
his spirits sank again. The first day was indeed horribly 
miserable, and in the evening, when he heard the old 
woman tell the children to go to bed, enforcing her order 
by a box on the ears — when Karik, a boy of fourteen, 
refused to obey — the poor child was reminded of his own 
great fault, and felt ashamed to see that he had shared ifc 
with one who had not been ^yell brought up like himself. 
The two little ones came when they were called like 
lambs, and did everything Praxede told them to at once ; 
but Adalbert noticed that neither she nor Gella said 
to them as Kosette did to him : 

“Come, kneel. down and say your prayers.” 

“No,” he said to himself, “no one here prays to the 
good God. Perhaps they don’t know Him.” 

When Hatches and Tilly had gone to bed, the former 
in the narrov/ cabin he shared with Karik, the other 
at the foot of Praxede’s bed, Adalbert remembered he 
had not said his own prayers. Poor little fellow, he did 
not dare get up and kneel down to say them ; but his heart 
was full of earnest devotion for the great Father who 


40 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


watches over all His children, and instead of using the 
words to which he was accustomed, he could only murmur, 
in a voice so low that none but God could hear : 

“ Forgive me, 0 Lord, forgive me for being so 
disobedient !” 

His case did indeed seem desperate: separated from 
his home and all he loved, and in momentary dread of the 
coarse gipsy man, of old Praxede, of Karik, who looked 
ready for any mischief, and of the old dog with its huge 
fangs. 

But the night wore on, and at last, exhausted by misery 
and fatigue, his heavy eyelids closed, and he slept, to 
dream that Philip, the old coachman, was giving him 
a ride round the park because he had been a good boy ; 
that his mamma had kissed him twice, and that Eosette 
had mended the reins of his rocking-horse with some 
new stout string. Then the scene changed : he was sitting 
at table, the room was turning round, he was giddy ; but 
there was his father coming towards him. So you see 
that even in his dreams Adalbert was still hopeful. 


CHAPTEE YL 

Adalbert wonders if Gella has a Heart. 

The day after Adalbert’s loss was bright and breezy, one 
of those days which make you feel fresh and ready for 
anything. When Adalbert first woke, he was very fright- 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


4i 

ened, then, remembering all that had passed, he thought to 
himself : “ Ah, well ! never mind ; I daresay it won’t last 
long, I shall soon be out of this wretched ‘ carriage ! ’ ” 

Fortunately he was not a spoilt child, he had not been 
petted and coddled up, and had acquired active, energetic 
habits. He could eat anything, stand cold without com- 
plaining, put up with annoyances, and even wait without 
making a fuss. Altogether he was a brave, sturdy little 
fellow, and when he was at home he never cried when he 
hurt himself if he could possibly help it, for if he did his 
papa would say to him : “ What’s the matter with my little 
girl?” 

This one word was worth as much as a long lecture, for 
it reminded him that he was, as he said himself, a man. 

Our little friend, then, with the strength of body and 
self-control which are the results of careful training, and 
with a kind of feeling shared by all very young children 
that it was impossible to be miserable for long at a time, 
did not make matters worse by grizzling over them, but 
determined to make the best of everything. 

“ As he would only be in the way as yet,” as the old 
gipsy woman said, Adalbert was left alone for the present ; 
but although he woke very early he kept quite still, 
pretending to be asleep, so that he might have time to 
make secret notes of all that was going on. 

Praxede was so old and feeble that she seemed to breathe, 
but that was all, and she was afflicted by a nervous irritation 
which made her life a burden to herself and everybody 
else. Soured by the constant fatigue and misery of her 
wandering life, and by the increasing infirmities of old age, 


42 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


slie was tlie tyrant of the party. She hated everybody. 
She hated her son-in-law, whom she called the iron man ; 
she hated Gella, who showed her no respect ; and she hated 
her grandson Karik, w^ho disobeyed her, and had already 
taken to swearing like his father. When she had been 
cried down by everybody, and found herself treated more 
like a servant than a mother, she would try and revenge 
herself on the dog, the hideous old Wolf. 

But Wolf, accustomed to blows and hardships of every 
kind, w'as not to be intimidated. He replied to every 
threat from the old woman by a growl, and if she kicked 
him was very likely to bite her in return. So she had 
some respect for him, as she was just a little in awe of 
him. 

But in this narrow little house there were two beings at 
least that she was not afraid of, for they were defenceless, 
and it was therefore on them she generally vented her ill- 
humour. Poor Tilly was so very pale and delicate that 
they did not dare beat her too much for fear she should 
be ill and have to be taken care of, so Praxede contented 
herself with spefiking savagely to her, as one ought not to 
speak to a dog. She expected this poor little child of eight 
years old to be always on the watch, ready to obey the 
slightest gesture, and if she failed in attention or prompti- 
tude she got short commons at meals. 

As for Hatches he was a regular black-sheep. He was 
a fine boy of ten years old, with a robust constitution, 
which enabled him to stand ill-treatment without injury 
to his health, but that did not prevent him from suffering. 
Praxede never let him forget that he was only tolerated for 


OR, FAR FROM HOME, 


13 


the sake of the money he brought in. His disposition 
was naturally sweet, and long servitude had rendered him 
indifferent to blows ; but his very silence under them 
served rather to irritate than to mollify his persecutor, 
and he was beaten for the slightest negligence, beaten for 
answering, and beaten for holding his tongue. 

Adalbert from his bed of rags was witness of one of the 
unjust scoldings Hatches was always getting. 

The day before he had been unfortunate enough to break 
a cracked pot, which had been used for the dog’s food for 
years. He could not have done anything v/orse, for the 
old woman set the greatest store by her pots. When she 
saw it she screamed for Hatches in a shrill voice, and said 
to him : 

You broke my pot ? 

“ Yes,” said the child, never even thinking of telling a 
lie, “ I did, but I didn’t mean to !” 

“ It was just the one thing wanted !” cried the old woman, 
crimson with rage ; “ but I’ll pay you out for it, you good- 
for-nothing brat, you little viper !” 

With that a shower of blows fell upon the miserable 
child. Praxede, old as she was, had plenty of muscular 
powder left, and when she was in a rage she could hit hard 
enough. The boy however managed to elude a good many 
thumps by the adroitness with which he jumped out of the 
way, and seeing this the old gipsy seized a rope, to make 
more sure of reaching him. 

Then Tilly, pale and delicate Tilly, rushed forward, and 
throwing her arms round her brother, as she chose to call 
him because of their common misery, she cried : 


44 


TUE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


“ Forgive liim, forgive liim ! oh, don’t hurt him !’* 

But the old woman, deaf to this touching entreaty, un- 
concernedly went on dealing out her vengeance . . . and 
Gella? Gella was busy getting things ready for breakfast 
in a kind of miniature kitchen wedged into a corner of the 
steps outside the door. 

What ! Gella, the young girl Gella, did she not run to the 
assistance of Natches ? No, these scenes were so frequent 
that she was quite used to them, and never interfered unless 
in exceptional cases. Her heart had become hardened by 
living with peoi)le so lost to all sense of goodness, and 
although she had a naturally kind disposition, as proved 
by her smile, she very rarely showed any emotion. 

Who was there to speak for Natches ? The man with 
the iron hand sat smoking his pipe in silence ; Karik 
looked on with a sneer ; Gella took no notice, and i:)oor 
little Tilly wept and pleaded in vain. Adalbert, Adalbert 
must take his part ; for all that he had learnt at home about 
justice and pity was ineffaceably engraved upon his heart. 
He started up boldly, and, throwing himself between 
Praxede and the child, he cried in a loud voice as the 
blows intended for Natches rained upon his head : 

“ You ought not to hurt him, and God will punish you U 
If it had not been Adalbert’s first day in the “ carriage ” 
he would probably have had cause to repent of his noble 
courage, but as it was his coarse companions were taken 
by surprise at his hardihood. The iron man puffed out a 
cloud of smoke, and burst into such a fit of laughter that 
his old grandmother was disarmed. Karik made some 
rough jokes, and Gella said a few kind words, for she was 


OB, FAB FBOM n03IE, 


45 


glad to see Natclies get off so easily, although she did not 
attach any great importance to a beating. 

One thing Adalbert had said had produced a profound 
effect, and that was : “ God will punish you !” 

“ Where is He, your good God said the man with the 
broad-brimmed hat, addressing Adalbert for the first time. 

“ He is everywhere !” replied the little French boy, who 
was beside himself with indignation. 

“ Oh, that’s a good joke ! pray is He in my ‘ carriage’ ? ” 

“ Yes,” said the child ; “ and He sees everything.” 

And then Adalbert, becoming ashamed of his boldness, 
cast down his eyes, and saw Tilly sitting on the ground 
looking compassionately at Natches, whom she always 
loved better after every fresh beating. 

The master, however, turned to our little friend and said, 
without any anger in his voice : 

“Listen, my boy. This is all very well for once, but 
don’t meddle again ; when the mother hits hard let her 
alone, it is no business of yours.” 

These words led Adalbert to think that perhaps, in every- 
day life, this man was less to be feared than his mother ; 
but what surprised him most was Gella’s indifference. He 
could not think how she could hear screams of pain without 
crying. He remembered his sister Camilla’s tears over the 
fate of a pet dog which had to be shot because it was sup- 
posed to be mad. She had resigned herself to her father’s 
will, it was true, but she could not eat any dinner the day it 
happened, and he remembered too how pale his mother had 
grown when she saw a little peasant hurt himself with a 
tool he had been using carelessly, and how she had said 

E 


46 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


as slie bound up bis wound, as tenderly as if be bad been 
ber own child : “ It makes me feel quite ill.” 

“ It must be natural to feel grieved when other people 
suffer,” thought Adalbert. “ Why then was not Gella miser- 
able when Natches was beaten ?” Perhaps constant contact 
with evil had deprived her of the power of sympathy ? 

When the grandmother’s rage had abated it occurred to 
her that it was time to teach the new comer his duties, 
and to give him a name and some clothes ; which meant 
to give him a nick-name to be known by in the “ carriage ” 
and to dress him in miserable rags. She evidently thought 
him a great bother, and kept telling her son-in-law that he 
had better have left him where he was, for he seemed to 
her just good for nothing. 

Don’t make too sure of that,” replied the iron man, 
nodding his huge head with its matted hair, looking like 
one of the statues of Hercules in repose. As he seldom 
spoke, he took no share in the perpetual quarrels which 
went on ; indeed it even seemed as if the inmates of the 
‘‘ carriage ” were a little less bitter against each other when 
he was by. 

The fact is, if not exactly respected, he was feared by 
all. He 'was called “ master,” or, more rarely, “ father 
his will 'w^as law, because from his authority there was no 
appeal, and, as is often the case, the certainty of being 
obeyed rendered him less exacting in trifles. He never 
spoke unless he was obliged, but when he did he was as 
immovable as a milestone; nothing would make him 
budge an inch. The gloomy monarch of this wretched 
abode, he ruled by hie mere presence, and if he were once 


Olt, FAB FBOM HOME. 


47 


roused to jput out his strength, everything must give way 
before him. 

Even the old grandmother, rather than put him out, 
took care to do what he wished, and although she grumbled 
all the time, she made poor little Adalbert put on the 
clothes which were henceforth to be his. She looked 
through Karik’s and Natches’ old clothes, and found some 
very short trousers and a very long coat, which she 
pronounced just the thing. 

“ Come !” she cried in a very sharp, harsh voice, I 
suppose you must have a name. Well, what do you 
choose to be called 

“I shall always be called Adalbert de Yalneige,” said 
Adalbert, drawing himself up. 

Hold your tongue ! screamed the old hag ; “ if you 
dare to say that name again I’ll cut you in pieces. I’ll 
pound you in a mortar, and give you to the dog to eat.” 

Adalbert was less affected by this horrible threat than 
by the way in which Praxede’s small grey eyes glared at 
him. His head drooped, his arms fell helplessly, his 
whole attitude expressed hopeless despondency, and when 
she shouted in his ear, ‘‘ You are to be called Mous- 
tapha !” he replied, in a humble voice, “ Yes, ma’am.” 

“ And you are to call me grandmother.” 

At these last words the boy’s blood boiled. He had 
known his own grandmother, his mother’s mother, who 
had been so good and gentle, and who, he had been told, 
had fallen asleep one night to wake in heaven ; and was 
he to give her name to this wicked old creature ? 

“ No !” he cried in a voice of horror. 

E 2 


48 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


“ What did you say ?’* 

*‘Isaid, No r 

A rough box on the ear greeted this second refusal, 
followed by another so violent that Adalbert lost his 
balance and rolled over to where Gella was standing, 
who whispered : 

“ You must never say ‘ No ’ here, little one.” 

When she spoke low there was something very sweet and 
kind in the young girl’s voice, and Adalbert began to feel 
some hope about her again ; especially when, lifting him up 
and putting her pretty brown hands on his head, she said : 

Come, come, grandmother, he won’t do it again !” 

“ So much the better for him !’’ replied Praxede, 
beginning to take off his own clothes, which, although 
very plain, were so good and nicely made that they would 
have betrayed him to be a little gentleman. 

The poor little fellow looked sadly at his dark blue 
cloth jacket, and knickerbockers to match. He looked too 
at his collar, spotted with ink, and remembered how he 
had splashed it in a playful struggle with Eugene. He 
saw everything he possessed taken from him, and was 
obliged to put on one of Natches’ coarse shirts, a horrid 
pair of trousers much too short for him, and a long, dirty, 
loose coat, which made him look like an old dwarf. 

When this wretched toilette was finished Praxede got 
a pair of great scissors and passed them through the long, 
light curls in which Madame de Valneige had taken so 
much pride. Adalbert shuddered, but by a lucky whim 
the master made a sign that his hair — which curled 
naturally, and was a great .ornament to him — should not 


on, FAB FBOM HOME, 


49 


be cut. As, however, his pretty little face was too 
refined for the part he was to play, a dirty yellow ribbon 
was tied across his forehead, which completely destroyed 
the look of native nobility which had so long been a 
source of gratification to his mother. 

Karik, whose naturally bad disposition had been 
rendered worse by education, now ran to fetch the 
looking-glass, with the aid of which his sister adorned 
herself when she was to dance in public to her father’s 
music, whilst Karik thumped upon his big drum, and 
Natches shook his Chinese bells. 

Adalbert, seeing the looking-glass, knew only too well 
what the young mountebank’s object was. Seeing that the 
prisoner hated having to put on the hideous costume, he 
thought to add keenness to his sufferings by letting him 
see how much it disfigured him. 

Even Tilly, child as she was, resented the wanton 
insult, and as Karik passed with the glass she managed 
to breathe on it so as to make part of it at least dim. 
Adalbert was much touched at the tender tact this act 
displayed, and looked lovingly at Tilly, who dared neither 
stir nor utter a word. But Gella, striding up to her ill- 
natured brother, snatched the glass from him and put it 
back in its place. 

Adalbert was quite cheered by this token of goodness 
of heart, which he felt atoned for the rough masculine 
manners of the young girl ; and as he turned toward her 
with fresh hope in his face he again repeated to himself : 

Yes, she, she will save me !” 

It grieved him, however, to see Praxede cut up the 


50 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


clothes she had just taken olf him with her big scissors, 
probably that there might be nothing in the “ carriage ” to 
excite suspicion. 

Adalbert managed to save two small relics from the 
general ruin, one was an old, shabby button which 
Rosette had sewn on to the pocket of his knickerbockers 
for want of a better in the confusion of the departure 
from Yalneige, and which, as is sometimes the case with 
what is meant to be provisional only, had stayed on where 
many a better one had come off ; and the other, that corner 
of his collar with the inkspot, which was associated with 
the game the poor child was having with his brother when 
it got stained. In his childish misery Adalbert treasured 
up these two trifles as part of the happy days gone by. 

Ah ! how well he now appreciated all the comforts of 
Valneige 1 How he realised now the value of a good 
home wdth everything comfortable; of kind friends all 
round, not to speak of politeness, general good breeding, 
and so on. Here, alas ! everything was coarse and vulgar. 

Another very painful moment was when he had to eat the 
gipsies’ soup for the first time. He was dying of hungeiv 
for he had had no dinner the day before, and when the 
old woman brought him some potato soup in a cracked 
plate he felt horribly disgusted ; but at the same time his 
craving for food was so great that he was glad to eat the 
soup, which really w’^asn’t bad after all, and at least had 
the merit of being substantial, as an iron spoon stuck in 
the middle of it would stand upright. 

All the time he was eating his breakfast Adalbert was 
thinking of Yalneige, and seemed to see the dining-room 


OR, FAR FROM HOME. 


51 


at home with four beautifully clean china plates on the 
table, and Eosette helping the children to soup. His 
dear mamma was passing the half-open door on her way to 
give her orders, and peeping in she said with a smile : 
“ Good appetite to you !” and they all laughed, and Adalbert 
jumped down to run and kiss her ; but Eosette, as particular 
as ever, cried out : “ Sit still, you ill-mannered little 
boy ! Do people jump down before they have finished ? 
This is not the time for kissing, but for eating your soup 1” 

As this picture rose before his mind Adalbert felt his 
eyes fill with tears ; but he was too brave to cry. Ho, he 
would keep up his courage ; he would not give way ; he 
would manage to save himself, sooner or later, and soon 
this became his one thought. 

Tilly, seeing that he looked sadder than ever, thought 
he had not had enough to eat, so she very sweetly offered 
him her own plate, and said in a friendly voice : 

“Would you like to finish my soup? It doesn’t hurt 
me not to have enough to eat.” 

“ Oh no ! ” cried Adalbert, pushing away the plate, and 
looking at her with a face full of gratitude. “ It’s very 
bad for you not to have enough to eat.” 

“ Oh, never mind ! I always feel ill.” 

“ Where do you feel ill ? ” 

“ Oh, all over me ! ” 

These first few words between the two poor children 
were exchanged in whispers, and Adalbert in the innocence 
of his heart said to himself : 

“ Poor little thing ! What a pity I can’t take her with 
me when I escape !” 


52 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


After breakfast the work of the day began. What, then, 
was the work of the day in the “ carriage ” ? 

The work of the day consisted of various gymnastic 
exercises, calculated to make the limbs supple. The 
master stood Karik, Natches, and Tilly in a row, and 
made them jump, wrestle, fence, turn somersaults, and so 
on. Then Hercules, as we will call the master, set Tilly 
on his shoulder, and carried her along as if in triumph, 
her pretty little feet clinging firmly to their support. 
She was obliged to hold herself perfectly straight, that 
her figure might retain its easy grace, and she had to 
practise kissing her hand and smiling sweetly. Tilly 
had long left off being afraid, the master was so strong 
and dexterous : the difficult thing was to smile and look 
happy all the time. 

Natches had become quite a marvel of agility and grace. 
He had been beaten so often ever since he was a baby 
that he anticipated his master’s orders, and throwing 
himself heart and soul into his task, accom2)lished wonders. 
He was a handsome, healthy boy, but his spirit was broken. 
There was something servile in his expression, and his 
readiness to obey the slightest gesture was rather like 
that of a cowed hound which humbly responds to every 
call and is only too glad to escape beating. 

As for the ugly and wicked Karik, he qualified himself 
for his rough calling by imitating his father’s Herculean 
attitudes, gloomy looks, and coarse oaths; sometimes 
varying them by an attempt at wit ; repeating his foolish 
jokes over and over again to himself, but failing to infuse 
any real cleverness into them. 


OB, FAR FB03I HOME. 


53 


His relations were convinced, however, that he would 
improve, and that they would he able to make something of 
him : as there was nothing taking in his outward appear- 
ance, he meant to make his way by sheer brute force. He 
aspired to be able, like his father, to hold a paving-stone 
with a rope round it between his teeth, and such like 
exploits. By way of recreation he would assume the most 
distorted attitudes, throwing himself backwards, and dexter- 
ously picking up a chair, or swallowing pebbles, eating 
fire, &c. Adalbert could really hardly bear to see him. 

And through it all, his one thought as he watched the 
party at their tasks was, how should he set about making 
his escape ? What could he do ? Sometimes he thought 
of entreating Gella to help him, but he did not know her 
well enough. Suppose she were to laugh at him, and 
report what he had said to the master ! It would only 
make his case worse than ever. No, he must give up that 
idea. And then he remembered how dangerous and 
impracticable flight would be in a country of which he 
did not understand the language. At last he decided to 
put off his project for the present, as his captors began to 
talk of leaving the mountains, and travelling slowly in the 
direction of the Khine. The Ehine ! there was hope for 
him in the very name, for he knew well that even before 
he got to the river itself he would meet plenty of people 
who could talk French. At this thought the poor child 
suddenly became submissive and patient, for he had 
resigned himself to wait, and to say not a word to any one, 
lest he should defeat his own objects. 


54 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


CHAPTEE VIL 

Adalbert listens to the Clock striking in the 
Darkness. 

’When tlie gipsies resumed tlieir travels after spending a 
very long time in the mountains, Adalbert noticed with 
-dismay that he was the object of perpetual anxiety and 
watching. The master, the old grandmother, the wicked 
Karik, and even the good Gella were spies upon him day 
iind night. More terrible than any of them, however, was 
the snarling old dog, which looked at him with fiery eyes, 
and seemed ready to swallow him up at one mouthful if 
he made any effort to escape. The time had evidently not 
yet come ; but then, when would it come ? They stopped 
again and again, encamping just outside some town, gene- 
rally without entering it, unless, indeed, there was some 
popular fete going on, and then, alas ! the poor little 
French boy figured in the fete. The old gipsy woman 
meanwhile told fortunes by the way to whoever would 
listen to her, looking carefully at the palms of the hands 
of the superstitious people, to whom she told the most 
ridiculous lies, laughing heartily at their credulity 
when again alone amongst her own people. Even after 
lie had seen all this going on for a year Adalbert had 
not become accustomed to it, but still retained a horror 
of such ignoble conduct, and an intense repugnance to 
the old hag. 


OB, FAB FBOAl HOME. 


55 


Sometimes a secret dread came over him of never being 
able to put his project into execution, and then indeed his 
heart sank within him. They had, to be sure, passed 
through countries were he might have made himself 
understood, but where was the good of that, when he was 
never lost sight of for a moment ? 

However, they still talked of the Ehine, and there w^as 
some idea of stopping for a bit in the south of Alsace, 
after which they would perhaps go towards Lyons, where 
Gella would see her aunt again — the kind creature already 
alluded to who took an interest in the neglected gipsy 
girl for the sake of the poor young mother who had died 
so young and so miserably. These plans, which Adalbert 
accidentally overheard, were explained to him by Gella of 
her own accord, and did much to revive his courage ; and, 
carefully keeping his own counsel, he determined to seize 
the very first favourable moment. 

The Ehine once crossed the little fellow breathed more 
freely ; he felt confident of his speedy deliverance, and was 
eager to know what would be the first stopping-place. 
He was delighted when they halted on the first evening 
opposite to a little town of which he did not know the 
name. There was always hope in a town and in a crowd. 
His one idea was to get away from his present companions ; 
as for what would become of him after that, he never gave 
it a thought, feeling sure that no situation could be worse 
than the present. 

When darkness had fallen it was decided to send into 
the town for a fresh stock of provisions. Gella, a basket 
on her arm, was generally chosen to go and buy the little 


5G 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


they needed, or rather the little they were able to procure ; 
for Hercules regaled himself at the inns they passed by 
the way, consuming a large share of the earnings of tlie 
party, and leaving but a scanty pittance for the rest. Beans, 
cabbages, coarse cakes, and potatoes were the ordinary fare, 
and a pot au feu, which even the poorest can generally 
afford, was quite a luxury to them. 

As it was absolutely useless to make any complaint to 
their despotic lord and master, each one was obliged to be 
content with privately anathematizing the brute strength 
which governed without mercy. 

On the evening in question Hercules announced that 
he had*business in the town, and would follow Gclla and 
the children, whilst PraxMe, with her grandson and the 
hideous Wolf, should take care of the “ carriage.” 

Adalbert finding he was to be of the party, felt his 
hopes revive considerably; he could see the winding 
streets of the town even in the distance, and sui’ely he 
would be able to get away. 

“ The town is so big, and I am so little,” he thought 
to himself, “ they wull never bo able to see me ; besides, 
tlie streets are so badly lighted.” 

Habitually prudent, Hercules made a sign to Gella to 
hold the new-comer’s hand. He saw well enough that 
the boy had too high and brave a spirit to yield to any- 
thing but force, and felt sure that he was always dreaming 
of running away. 

So Gella took the little boy’s hand. As for Hatches, 
he had been so thoroughly cowed, that his thraldom 
appeared to him quite a matter of course, and the idea of 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


57 


breaking loose from it never even occurred to him. He 
was allowed to walk quite alone, and ran on before little 
Tilly, who was too weak and delicate ever to run. Poor 
little girl, her lassitude and her extreme youth made her 
to a great extent insensible to the misery and shame of 
her lot, but for all that, when she met a nicely dressed 
little maiden of her own age in the streets, she would 
suddenly feel very sad, without quite knowing why. 

They set out and gained the town, without the master 
having uttered a single word. Here they parted, Hercules 
going to the right, and Gella to the left with the three 
children; but as he turned away her father, with a 
menacing gesture, said to her, in a tone which for her 
was that of absolute authority ; 

“ Look after the little brat — you are responsible to me 
for him ; take care what you are at ! ” 

Yes, father,” said Gella, looking down. 

Gella, half wild as she was, and accustomed to dance at 
fairs and in the roads from her earliest childhood, never 
trembled before any one but the master ; of him, however, 
she was afraid, and this fear made her obey him blindly, 
and never dispute his will. Aw^tre of this, he ruled her 
by a look, and the result of the constant intimidation in 
which she lived was that she never neglected what seemed 
to her to be a duty. Naturally of a very good disposition, 
she would have grown up a fine woman, even if she had 
had no education whatever ; and, without any very definite 
principles, or any consciousness of her own rectitude, she 
kept in the right path, warding off much of her father’s 
anger and injustice by passive obedience to his will. 


58 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


This was why Gella was never to he seen loitering 
about. She was always busy, either at her homework, 
her sewing, or at the exercises she practised to keep 
her limbs graceful and supple. If her heart were cold, it 
was no wonder, for she had never had anything to call 
out her affections ; she had never seen anything but evil, 
and we may be sure that the good God had pity on her 
ignorance, 

Adalbert, although he could not have said it in so many 
w^ords, was vaguely conscious of all this, and when he 
felt his little hand firmly clasped in Gella’s big brown 
palm, it was with confidence mingled with doubt rather 
than repugnance. But to resume. The little party 
come to a baker’s, and they go in and buy two big loaves, 
which Natches and Tilly take charge of ; then they go to 
the butcher’s, and Gella puts some very cheap meat in 
her basket, for cheapness is always the chief thing to be 
considered in her purchases. She does not know what 
luxury means. 

The next thing is to go and buy some coals. They 
turn into the narrow winding streets, and seeing the 
confusion of men, women, and children in the half 
darkness, Adalbert asks himself if the moment has not 
arrived for making an attempt. Gella is no longer 
holding his hand : she is going into the coal shed, the 
children are following her. Our little friend looks 
furtively first to the right, then to the left : he hesitates, 
his heart beats very fast — it is all over now, he has made 
up his mind, he is going to make his escape . . . which 
way shall he go? Suppose he should meet Hercules? 


OB, FAR FROM HOME, 


69 


The very thought makes him shudder ? But what is he 
waiting for ? Could there be a better opportunity ? Ho 
is in a town, it is evening, there is a crowd, a noise. • . .. 
He must be off at once. 

Adalbert at last decided to turn to the right, keeping^ 
close to the walls of the houses, and feeling as if all the 
world were looking at him. Then, encouraged by this 
commencement of success, he hurried on and on, not 
knowing what he did, but possessed by the one thought 
that he was escaping from his silent tyrant, from old 
Praxede, wicked Karik, and above all from the snarling dog. 

Walking so fast, with no object but getting away soon, 
made his legs ache, and at last he said to himself, in 
dismay, “ Oh, where am I, where am I going ? ” Some 
anxiety about the future now became mingled with his 
feverish desire to leave the “ carriage ” far behind him ; but 
imagine his horror, when he found that, in his headlong 
course, he had but made a circuit, and was back again in 
the very street he had crossed with Gella to go to the 
baker’s ! What should he do? 

He looked about him with a face so full of anxiety 
that the most indifferent passers-by could not but notice? 
him, and a woman with apples to sell stopped him, and 
said kindly : 

“ Have you lost your way, my little man ?” 

No.” 

“No? well, it looks very much like it then. Where 
are you going?” 

“ Down there.” 

“ But whereabouts down there ? To the coal-merchant’s ? 


60 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


“ Oh, no, no ! ” 

“ But you were at his door a few minutes ago ! Come, 
tell me, have you lost your tongue ? ” 

“ Yes . . . no !” 

“ What’s your name ?” 

“ Adalbert . . . Oh, no, no ! ” 

“ Oh, you don’t know what you are saying . . . Look 
here, neighbour Dubois, here’s a little chap in a coat 
much too big for him, with a shabby ribbon round his 
head. Perhaps he’s the child there’s been such a hunt 
for!” 

“Perhaps he is, but he looks like a beggar, and 
whoever he may be it’s no concern of mine ; I’ve no fancy 
for the rabble myself.” 

“ So much the worse for you 1 As for me, if I met a 
poor dog which had lost itself I’d help it to find its 
master. But, then, that’s my way ! ” 

And with these words, partly out of goodness of heart, 
and partly because she was rather fond of creating a 
sensation, the applewoman took Adalbert’s hand to lead 
him to the coal-shed. 

To her surprise he resisted with all his might, and the 
good woman, as she tried to drag him along, exclaimed : 

“ Come along, you stupid little fellow, I tell you your big 
sister is looking for you, and your father is running after 
you from the other direction ! Don’t you see him ? Ah, 
he is coming this way 1 ” 

And at this very moment Adalbert did indeed see 
Hercules striding along, his great black eyes flashing with 
rage, looking as if he wanted some object on which to vent 


OPv, FAR FROAl UOAIE, 


Cl 


his fury. The poor little fellow was seized with inde- 
scribable terror ; for one moment he hesitated, not knowing 
whether he should drop down paralysed before his perse- 
cutor, or make one mbre effort to recover his liberty. His 
native courage came to his aid, and tearing himself away 
from the apple-woman, he rushed down the opposite street, 
and ran as fast as ever his legs would carry him, until v/ant 
of breath compelled him to stop. 

The street he had chosen led into another, and that 
again into another ; but in the distance he could see the 
plains, and he thought to himself : “ If I can run till I reach 
the open country, I can hide myself in some sheltered 
corner.’’ 

As this idea occurred to him he made a great effort to run 

on in the direction of the plains But whom does 

he see running along a side street ? Gella ! her face pale 
and anxious, looking for him. The child felt his brain 
reel — what should he do ? One moment he thought he 
would fling himself at her feet, and beg her to let him 
escape . . . but no, if her heart were really hard, he 
would be lost ; and besides, she had good reason to be 
angry with him. Ho, he must run away from her. 

His despair seemed to give him fresh strength, and he 
sped along like an arrow from a bow, seeing nothing, 
hearing nothing, with no thought but to disappear and 
hide himself from the avengers at his heels. 

But Gella, too, is a good runner. She will catch him 
up, her feet seem to fly over the ground. 

And now he has gained the country, he sees a solitary 
house. He will knock at the door ; he will scream to the 


F 


62 


house on WHEELS; 


inmates to let him in; they must have pity on his 
distress — they must hide him. 

He reaches the house ; he flings himself against the door, 
he knocks, he rings, he calls ! No one answers, everybody 
seems to be dead inside, the shutters are closed* All is 
perfectly still. Adalbert hears Gella panting as she runs, 
he hears the sound of her feet as she rapidly gains upon 
him. She is close by ... he runs round the house, he 
catches sight of a round hole in the ground with an iron bar 
across it — it must be the mouth of a cellar, a coal-hole, or 
something . . • whatever it is it must be better than the 
“ carriage If Gella should catch him and take him 

back a recaptured fugitive, would not Hercules, or the old 
woman, or Karik, or all three, beat him to death . . . would 
not the dog bite him ? The cellar would be better than 
that. It was at least an untried evil, and there is always 
hope where there is uncertainty. 

He squeezed his head through the hole, then his 
shoulders and arms, and, seizing hold of the iron bar, he 
swung himself round it with the dexterity a desperate 
situation always gives, and, mad with terror, he let himself 
slide down the wall, falling with a crash of which he was 
quite unconscious on to a heap of he knew not what, 
from which rose a blinding cloud of dust. Where was he ? 
The poor child had not the least idea, but he heard a dress 
rustle against the iron bar across the hole. Gella has 
stopped by it. She calls ; she listens ; presently she says : 

“ Are you there, little one ?” 

More dead than alive, Adalbert is silent, he dares not 
even breathe until Gella, worn out with fatigue, and still 


on, Fin FBOM HOME, 


63 


panting after her run, gives up the search and goes away, 
perhaps losing all trace of the fugitive. 

When all was silent again the very stillness became 
oppressive to the child, and now that Gella is no longer 
pursuing him, he wishes he could hear her footsteps. 
But not a sound reaches him, except that of a clock striking 
eight, which must have been wound up before the house 
was deserted. It had evidently been inhabited then, or at 
least visited not so very long ago. But when would anybody 
come back ? And how was he to get out of the hole ? He 
had never thought about that when Gella was close to him, 
but now the dreadful truth flashed upon him, and he felt 
horribly terrified. 

A prey to this new dread, he again tried to console 
himself by thinking that Gella would be kind, that she 
would find her heart when she thought of a poor little 
abandoned child like himself. Had she not often given 
him a proof of her natural goodness ? Yes, he ought to 
have trusted her, and there might still be time. He called, 
he shouted : 

“Gella! Gella!” 

But when he listened for her answer he only heard liis 
own words repeated : 

“Gella! Gella!’’ 

On hearing a voice so like his own repeat what he had 
said, his fiesh crept, the perspiration stood upon his forehead, 
his knees knocked together, his teeth chattered. Then hei 
suddenly remembered the echo in the park at Yalneige' 
near the ice-house, and that his papa had laughed at him 
for being afraid of the echo which, he said, was only sound 

F 2 


64 


THE BOUSE ON WHEELS; 


returned by natural causes, and not as the little fellow had 
thought, the voice of some invisible creature mocking 
him. 

Eecovering from his fright, therefore, Adalbert resigned 
himself to wait, and settled himself in a half reclining 
posture. 

“ Only eight o’clock !” he said to himself. “ It will bo 
a long time before daylight comes ! And when it does 
how am I to get out of this hole ?” 

He did not dare to move for fear of running up against 
something, and hurting himself. He was too much excited 
to go to sleep, but lay with eyes wide open, one thought 
chasing another through his brain, and more ideas pre- 
senting themselves to his mind than he generally had in 
the course of a whole day. 

When the moon rose its beams did not penetrate to the 
bottom of the cellar, but only lit up one corner, and in that 
corner Adalbert saw something black about twice as long 
as his hand, which seemed to be clinging, so to speak, to 
the wall, swaying now to the right and now to the left. 

“ What can it be ?” thought Adalbert. 

He could not take his eyes olT the mysterious object, and 
h.3 could not imagine what it was. This became at last a 
new terror, for he was alone in the darkness, and he had 
not even paced his prison to find out its extent. 

“ When I get hungry,” he said to himself, “ who will 
give me something to eat ?” 

Sometimes he thought he was too miserable ever to be 
hungry again. 

Nine o’clock struck whilst he was still in a state of the 


OB, FAB FBOAI HOIJF. 


65 


greatest despondency, and as he turned over on to his other 
side, in the hope of easing his uncomfortable posture, on 
his dusty bed, he caught a glimpse through the mouth of 
his cellar of a little bit of blue sky, in which shone a single 
star, set there as it seemed on purpose for him. He gazed 
at it with eyes full of gratitude ; it was a real comfort to 
the poor deserted child, buried alive as it were, and the 
sight of it suggested thoughts more holy than he had had 
when he was above ground. He said to himself with a 
touching simplicity : 

“ The good God made that star His very own self, and as 
He knows all that is going to happen, He knew when He 
made it that a poor little boy would see it through a hole 
in the ground, when he had lost his papa, his mamma, and 
everybody belonging to him.” 

As thoughts like these passed through his mind he burst 
into tears for the first time since his flight, and these tears 
did much to relieve his over-burdened heart. He felt that 
he was still under the eye of a merciful God, although he 
was eight feet beneath the ground ; and as the tears rolled 
down his cheeks, in spite of his efforts to control them, he 
murmured a few earnest, humble, confiding words of prayer ; 
and when they were over he still kept his eyes fixed on 
the star, and in spite of the increasing cold, in spite of the 
trouble of his heart, he might perhaps have fallen asleep 
opposite to the little strip of blue sky, had he not been 
obliged to turn his eyes every moment to the corner lit uj) 
by the moonbeams, to watch the black object which was 
always there, and the end of which moved now and then, 


66 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


leaving tlie little prisoner in an agony of doubt as to wbat 
it could be. 

Tbe clock struck ten. The child felt as if be bad 
already been a very long time in this subterranean place, 
and really without tbe star be would have been thoroughly 
out of heart ; but there it still was, brilliant and beautiful, 
like a jewel flung down to him by the hand of the great 
Creator, and Adalbert whispered to it : 

‘‘ Stay there, my beautiful star, oh ! stay there, do not 
go away ; you are my star, my own, and I shall give you 
a name. Learned men always give names to all the stars 
which shine up in the sky, and though I am not a learned 
man, I shall give you a name, the best name I know, for 
it is my mamma’s name. I shall call you Adeline^ 
because you do me good. When I look at you I shall 
feel brave, and then when I get out of here, when I have 
found my parents, I shall look for you again, and you 
will see I shall look at you all my life.” 

Even whilst he was talking to his new friend he felt 
constrained to turn towards the dreaded corner of the 
wail . . . and what does he see ? The mysterious object 
has moved, is still moving, it is coming towards him. 
He has no longer any doubt, it is a big black rat, such 
an one as even the cats were afraid of at Valneige. One 
of the kind that Gervais set traps for, because, as he said, 
the brutes could bite. 

Adalbert no longer saw his star or the beautiful blue 
sky ; his cheerful hopes were gone too, and he could only 
think of the great black rat advancing treacherously upon 


OR, FAR FROM HOME, 


67 


him in the darkness, and from which he could not escape, as 
he dared not move, not knowing by what he was surrounded, 
This was a new terror, and the tender regrets with which 
the poor child had been thinking of his home were 
changed for a vague instinctive horror of a dangerous 
creature in whose near neighbourhood he must spend tho 
whole night, and it had only just struck eleven, 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Madame Tourtebonne interests herself in Adalbert, 

Some people always like to see how things turn out of 
which they have witnessed the beginning. Of this class 
was the honest applewoman, who, as we have seen, had 
asked Adalbert so many questions. She remained 
motionless before her truck, looking after him as long 
as he was in sight, 

Madame Tourtebonne — that was her name — stood in 
such constant need of sympathy that she unburdened 
herself of all her thoughts to everybody she happened 
to see, and as her sole occupation was to wheel her truck 
from one place to another, the whole town was in her 
confidence. It didn’t matter to her whether people 
answered her or not, the one thing was to get a listener, 
so that it sometimes happened that the butcher came in 
for the conclusion of an account of which the grocer, who 
had been called away, had heard the beginning. 

The good creature knew everybody, and was a general 


C8 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


favourite, because, like most people who are found meddling 
in other folks’ concerns, she was always ready to oblige. 
She did not mind taking trouble for other people, and if 
any one had wanted her to talk for three hours at a 
stretch, she would gladly have talked four. 

As she had been going her rounds in the town for 
some forty-two years, she knew the streets, roads, and 
houses pretty well by heart, and had become a kind of 
walking directory. Her business and her ready wit 
rhade her so well up in all that was going on, that she 
had been many times called for as witness in a court of 
law. These occasions were red-letter days in the good 
woman’s calendar, for her memory was so accurate, her 
remarks were so circumstantial, and her language was so 
fluent, that she really often aided greatly in clearing up 
doubtful points. On this account people who had reason 
to shun justice shunned her, keeping out of her way 
as carefully as if she had been a policeman. 

But to return to a .more interesting subject. As soon 
as Madame Tourtebonne lost sight of Adalbert, she turned 
about to look for some one with whom to discuss the matter; 
but there was no one at hand but the portly Baptist, who 
was proverbially stupid and taciturn, and was now standing 
at his shop door. Well, never mind, he was better than 
no one ; he was at that moment selling neither of the 
two commodities in which he dealt, herrings and cheese, 
and could therefore be made to listen to all the good 
woman had to tell whether he liked it or not. 

Did you ever see anything like it ? A little fellow 
like that to slip through my fingers just as I was going 


OB, FAR FROM IIOMR 


C9 


to show him his way! What do you say to that, neigh- 
bour Baptist 

But Baptist never had any remark to make on any 
other subjects than herrings and cheese, so he merely 
said hum in a loud voice. It was an easy way of getting 
out of expressing an opinion on anything not directly 
connected with his business. 

He took no interest, in fact, in anything but his trade 
and his pipe, which latter was for him a symbol of eternal 
rest. To go a step out of his way to see what was going 
on, to try and draw inferences from facts, seemed to him 
quite an unnecessary increase of trouble, and, being the 
man he was, he was not of course thought much of in 
his own town, and the gossips of the neighbourhood looked 
upon him as a mere cipher. 

Madame Tourtebonne, however, was a host in herself, 
and could have squeezed an opinion out of a mule if it 
suited her purpose to do so. Not quite satisfied with 
the hum, which was the good man’s only reply, she 
went on in a more urgent tone : 

“ You saw him, didn’t you ? The stupid little chap 
looking from right to left to whom I sx^oke ? Come, 
answer me — you saw him, didn’t you?” 

Hum was again Baptist’s only reply ; but this time 
it was accompanied by an affirmative nod, intended to 
express yes, for M. Bax)tist was a Norman, and like a 
true descendant of the good Duke Eolf, or Eollo, he took 
good care never to say yes straight out. In selling, of 
course, he was obliged to say something more than hum, 
but even then he evaded direct assent by many a round- 


70 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


about reply, or expressive ejaculation, sucb as : “ Well, 
I never ! ♦ • , That depends ! . . , Why not ? Wbat do 
you tbink ? , , . Come now !” and so on. Bargains being 
struck sometbing in tbis wise : 

Customer. Are your herrings fresh ? 

ShopJcee^per. Look at them, and see if they are not. 

Customer. Are they really the ones you brought in this 
morning ? 

SliopTceeper. What others should they be ? 

Customer. They are the freshest you have, then ? 

Shopkeeper. Do you think I would offer you any others ? 

Customer. Well, then, give me six. 

Shopkeeper. There you have them, and fine ones they 
are too. Now for some cheese, I suppose ? 

Customer. I wasn’t going to buy any. 

Shopkeeper. But it’s a capital thing for the digestion. 
People who don’t eat cheese have indigestion. 

Customer. Do they really ? 

Shopkeeper. I’m sure of it. Look at me, I always eat 
cheese ; always have eaten it ever since I can remember, 
and I never have indigestion — if that isn’t a proof . . . 

Customer. Well, give me a little, only a little, mind. 

Shopkeeper. Which will you have ? 

Customer. Not that one. It’s very strong, isn’t it ? 

Shopkeeper. It’s first-rate. 

Customer. That one’s better, I think. 

Shopkeeper. A capital cheese that. 

Customer. Well, which shall I take ? 

Shopkeeper. Take both. 

Customer. Oh no, I only want one, and that’s too much. 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


71 


Sliophee^per. Oh, cut it in half, and use one half first. 

Customer. That one looks to me richer? 

Shojpheeper, So it is. 

Customer, And that other one ? 

ShopTceeper, That’s very rich too. 

Customer. Will it keep ? 

Shopkeeper. What a question I 

Customer. You guarantee it ? 

Shopkeeper. If you don’t find it good, bring it back to me. 

So you see. Baptist, stupid as he was, had plenty to say 
about his cheese and herrings, and it generally ended in 
the customer taking both, which, truth to tell, were as good 
as he made them out. 

And now it was his turn to have to give in, for Madame 
Tourtebonne was determined not to let him off easily, but 
ran on in quite an excited tone of voice : 

“ I declare there are no more children now-a-days. A 
little brat like that not to answer when one offers to do 
him a kindness! If his father had happened to come 
this way I’d have given him a bit of my mind. It doesn’t 
do to turn your back on people when they ask you a 
civil question.” 

Honest Baptist was just turning upon his heel to go 
into his shop as these words fell upon his ear, and thinking 
they were aimed at him, he decided to remain on his 
doorstep, constrained thereto moreover by his French 
politeness. 

Did you ever hear of such a thing ?” repeated Madame 
Tourtebonne. “ A child looking for his way ought to be 
only too glad if one leaves off what one’s about to attend 


72 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


to him. No such thing. Whilst I am pointing to the 
right, off he goes to the left . . . but, on the other hand, 
some children are so knocked about at home, it’s no wonder 
they’re in no hurry to get back to it. Children shouldn’t 
be beaten, however tiresome they may be, and that poor 
little chap looked miserable enough, now I think of it. 
He was at the coal-shed a little time ago with his big 
sister and two other children, a boy and a girl. Did you 
see them, neighbour Baptist ?” 

Although the question was so direct the cheesemonger 
only said hum — this time, however, with three nods of 
afhrmation, which meant yes, yes, yes, 

“Ah, you did see them! Well, to ovm the truth, I 
think those people are a bad lot. The little girl was as 
thin as thin, mere skin and bone ; the big boy was plump 
and sturdy enough, but looked as stupid as possible — too 
much beaten I expect ; the big girl looked like a tam- 
bourine player, handsome certainly, but she gave me the 
idea of a strolling dancer with her short petticoats and 
rough hair ; and as for the poor little fellow, perhaps he 
was a stolen child. Of course he must be ! Why, he 
looked quite a little gentleman, in spite of his wretched 
clothes, and if he did belong to the people he was with he 
was very unlike the rest of them. He was fair and slight, 
with dainty little wrists and a soft white skin. . . he 
looked as if he had been brought up in some great . . . 
oh, look . . . look, neighbour Baptist, there is his father, 
we must call him here 1” 

“ Holloa, sir, look here ! Are you looking for your 
little boy with the yellow ribbon round his head 


on, FAU FnOM nOMR 


73 


At these words Hercules turned aside, and took three 
steps towards the apple woman, whilst she went on : 

“ I saw him looking for his peoiole, and I would have 
stopped him ; but there, he was off like a hunted hound. 
You’ll very likely find him again though, and if he’s a 
young rogue who has broken bounds, I’ll tell you how to 
catch him again. I know these parts very well, every 
nook and corner of the town in fact, and twenty yards off 
there’s a police-office, and the inspector always has plenty 
of men ready to go off in all directions. Come with me,. 
I’ll show you the way, and he’ll help you find your boy.” 

All this time Hercules had listened with his usual air of 
indifference, but as the good woman finished speaking his 
dark eyes flashed angrily, and thinking he saw the lost 
child near the church, he darted off in pursuit without 
a word of acknowledgment of Madame Tourtebonne’s 
obliging offer. 

Her astonishment may readily be imagined, and she 
stood opposite to her golden pippins staring after Hercules, 
whose behaviour was quite unintelligible to her, as she 
could see no one in the direction he had taken but three 
children of her acquaintance playing together by the light 
of the moon. 

For want of any one better she was only too glad 
to turn to M. Baptist and say to him : 

“ You see that ! The child was stolen. 111 be bound. 
The man looks a regular brute ; and did you notice his eyes 
when I spoke of the inspector of police ?” 

“Hum!” 

“ Ah 1 poor child. He’d look a regular little love with 


74 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


his hair properly combed and in decent clothes. My 
heart aches for him, poor little darling. I’m sure there 
must be something not quite above ground in the matter, 
for when I asked him his name he said Adalbert, and then 
added in a great hurry as if he was frightened, No, no, no. 
Most children would answer readily and frankly, and 
never dream of concealing their names. What do you 
think about it neighbour Baptist ? you who once had a 
little boy yourself, your poor little Augustus.” 

At the name of Augustus the cheesemonger started, and 
replied with unusual animation : 

“ I agree with you that he must be a stolen child.” 

M. Baptist generally lived in a state of apathetic in- 
difference to everything except his business, but on one 
point he was sensitive, for in one corner of his heart he 
cherished the memory of his little son Augustus, who had 
died at about Adalbert’s age. An appeal made in his name 
was never made in vain, and for the sake of the memory 
of his dead boy. Baptist, generally so calm, was always 
ready to rouse himself. 

“ Come, now,” added Madame Tourtebonne, ‘‘what shall 
we do ? For my part, I can’t rest satisfied as things stand. I 
shouldn’t be able to sleep for thinking of the child. Only 
fancy ! some poor parents are perhaps at this moment look- 
ing for the poor little fellow, who has been taken away 
from them, and am I to stand with my hands before me 
doing nothing to help them find him ? No, I couldn’t do it* 
I have never had any children myself— more’s the pity ; 
but I’m very fond of children for all that, and if I had had 
any, what care I would have taken of them ! I should never 


Oi?, FAB FilOM HOME, 


75 


liave dared to let them out of my sight, for fear of losing 
them.” 

As she spoke Madame Tourtebonne, who had worked 
herself into a state of great excitement about Adalbert, 
burst into tears at the thought of the children she had 
never had. Then, taking out a large coloured pocket- 
handkerchief, she wiped her eyes, and smiled at her own 
weakness. . 

What she said of her love of children was, however, no 
idle boast, for all the little people of the town loved her 
rosy, good-natured face, partly for its own sake, but perhaps 
still more because she always gave away the fruit she 
couldn’t sell rather than let it rot. “ Here, child,” she 
would say, ‘‘ take this apple, it’s a little gone here and 
there, and if I could afford it I’d give you a good one, but 
you can cut out the bad part, and you’ll never miss it.” 
And when the child said “ Thank you,” she would 
add : 

“ Don’t mention it, I’m sure you’re welcome enough, my 
little dear, it’s a pleasure to see you eat it.” 

But to return to our tale. Her eyes dried, and her 
passing emotion conquered, the good woman turned once 
more to her much enduring companion, and resumed : 

“ It’s getting late ; it’s very nearly bed-time. Hadn’t 
we better make a declaration to the police before we go 
home? Come, say what you think neighbour Baptist? 
You loved your own little Augustus so much, fancy now if 
he had been taken from you I ” 

“ Let’s go to the inspector,” replied the good-hearted 
cheesemonger, who, what with his companion’s enthusiasm 


76 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


and liis own freshly awakened memories, was now 
thoroughly aroused. “ Only let me just put up my shutters, 
and I’m at your service.” ' 

The shutters closed, M. Baptist wheeled Madame 
Tourtebonne’s little truck into his own court for safety, 
and with a most chivalrous bow politely offered his old 
friend his arm, and together the strangely assorted couple 
made their way to the police-office, the applewoman’s 
honest face beaming with satisfaction at the importance of 
her errand. 

Once there Madame Tourtebonne poured forth a volley 
of words to very little purpose, whilst M. Baptist summed 
up the whole history in a single short sentence, and some 
few hums ! 

The inspector took dowm their declaration in writing, 
and expressed a hope that, sooner or later, these depositions 
would lead to the restoration of the poor child to his 
family. 

M. Baptist and Madame Tourtebonne retired as they 
had come, arm in arm; the little truck was wheeled to 
the good woman’s own door, which, as it happened, was 
quite on the outskirts of the town on the side of which 
Adalbert had gained the open country; and unable to 
sleep after such a day of excitement, the old lady lay awake 
forming scheme after scheme for pursuing the search, 
and determined to leave no stone unturned to solve the 
mystery. 

All this time, as we know, our poor little friend was in 
a cellar sadly counting the hours in the darlmess. 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


77 


CHAPTER IX. 

Adalbert is Hungry. 

We left M. de Valneige’s little son alone in the darkness, 
a prey to the most dreadful real and imaginary terrors. 
Now he thought the great rat was close to him, now 
that he felt it running over him. Presently however 
his attention was distracted from it by a noise which 
threw him into a fresh state of perplexity. This noise 
seemed to be a few yards off, and sounded like a carpenter 
at work, scraping, boring, hammering in rapid succession, 
as if he were in a great hurry ; then abruptly leaving off 
as if to rest, the silence appearing more awful than ever 
between whiles, not even the breathing of the unseen 
carpenter being audible. 

Once possessed of the idea that there was a man close to 
a door leading into his refuge, Adalbert’s agitation became 
very great. First he thought the man would save him, 
and help him out of the cellar ; then he saw himself at the 
mercy of a stranger, perhaps a wicked man, ready, like 
Hercules, to steal children. 

Now and then the poor little fellow thought he would 
call out to him, and he opened his mouth to say ; 

“ Good carpenter, come and help me I please come to 
me. 

But the words would not come — his tongue clove to the 
roof of his mouth as in some dreadful nightmare. Ho 

G 


78 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


forgot the rat, lie forgot everything in his new dread of 
the unseen workman. 

The fact of his having often seen carpenters at work on 
his father’s estate only increased Adalbert’s perplexity 
now, for they did not leave off abruptly every now and 
then, and they finished what they had to do by daylight. 
It was altogether very puzzling. 

Had Adalbert been a nervous child, frightened at trifies 
— which boys who mean to grow to be men never should 
be — he would have become ill with terror in this dreadful 
situation ; but he remembered how his father had often told 
him that noises, however strange they may at first appear, 
are almost always the result of some simple natural cause, 
and this thought was some slight comfort to him now, for, 
giddy and wild as Adalbert had been, he had unconsciously 
taken many of his father’s practical lessons to heart. 

After the carpenter had been at work for some little 
time the noise ceased altogether, and Adalbert concluded 
that the man was tired or had finished what he was about, 
but he listened in vain for his retreating footsteps. 

At last the child, worn out by the variety of emotions 
he had undergone, felt an irresistible drowsiness come 
over him, and soon after the clock struck twelve, in spite 
of all his terrors, he fell into a heavy, peaceful sleep. 

When Adalbert awoke the first faint rays of dawn were 
striving to pierce the darkness of the cellar. At first he 
could distinguish nothing, and as the remembrance of all 
that had happened rushed in upon his mind he wished he 
could have slept for ever. 

To escape from his sad reflections he tried to think of 


OB, FAR FROM HOME. 


79 


something pleasant, and the image of his dear mother, 
never far from his thoughts, rose vividly before him. He 
saw her as she had looked the last time he had been with 
her, and he remembered distinctly every little detail of 
her appearance and dress, even to the wedding-ring, which 
had always been a great delight to him, for you must know 
that it was by no means an ordinary wedding-ring. It 
was larger than rings of that kind usually are, and so 
Madame de Valneige had chosen to have her children’s 
initials engraved inside it in the order of their birth. 
AVhen Adalbert was a little fellow, and had been very good, 
his mamma would allow him to open the ring and look at 
the letter A., which stood for his name. Even before he 
could say his alphabet without a mistake he always called 
out when the great ring opened : 

‘‘ That’s a C., and stands for Camilla ; that’s an E., and 
stands for Eugene ; that’s an E., and stands for Frederick ; 
and that is an A., and stands for Adalbert.” 

When he came to the last letter he always thumped 
himself several times on the chest to make sure that he was 
he, then he clapped his hands, and his mamma kissed him. 

Madame de Valneige found this ring very useful in 
managing her children, and one day when Adalbert had 
done something dreadfully naughty — when he had said no 
when he ought to have said yes — that is to say, when he had 
told a lie — she said to him, looking at him very severely, 
that if such a thing happened again she would send her 
ring to the jeweller and have the letter A. taken quite 
away. Adalbert never told a lie after that, you may be 
quite sure. 


80 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS} 


After thinking for some time of his mother, the poor 
child’s terrors returned upon him. It was still too dark 
to make out what had become of the big black rat, and 
he was still puzzled about the workman. Had he fallen 
asleep close by, or was he gone ? No, Adalbert had not 
heard any door opened, and felt sure that nothing had 
moved in the house to which the cellar belonged, except 
the pendulum of the clock. 

He tried to forget the carpenter, but then arose the 
image of Hercules. Oh! how dreadful it would be to be 
caught by him again, to be seized by the great strong 
hands which could easily crush him to nothing ! The very 
idea made the little fugitive shudder. And then there 
was the old woman, of whom he felt much the same 
shrinking terror as of the big black rat which he could 
now see moving about in the half light. 

And Gella? ah, Gella! she might perhaps have been 
good to him after all. Why had he not answered her 
when she said so softly : 

“ Are you there, little one 

He wished he had, although she would probably have 
wanted to take him back to the “ carriage,” and what would 
have become of him then? Would not Hercules have 
beaten him like a dog ? or perhaps even have killed him 
in his fury ? This man with his huge bulk, his fierce 
black eyes, and gloomy silence, had inspired the little 
prisoner with an indescribable awe, and trying to put him 
out of his thoughts he began to puzzle his poor bewildered 
brains as to how he was to get out of the tomb into which 
he had fallen, if indeed he were ever to get out again. 




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82 


TEE EOUSE ON WHEELS; 


and taking care to put plenty into his eyebrows and hair, 
rubbing it well into the very roots of the latter. 

x\h, if dear old Eosette had seen him now she would 
not have known her fair little darling, and even his mother 
might have been doubtful at first. 

Adalbert almost shuddered at the thought of his own 
appearance when he had finished his preparations ; but 
after all, what did it matter when he was dressed in such 
miserable rags ? It was a capital way of escaping detec- 
tion, and the next question was, how to get out ? 

If he could have pushed the barrel under the mouth of 
the cellar, and put a few planks upon it, he might have 
climbed up by them; but he was rather nimble and 
dexterous than strong, and he could not get it to move ; 
it really seemed to have taken root in the ground. 

What should he do ? The morning was being wasted 
in countless fruitless efforts, and he still saw no hope of 
success. 

Another great cause of suffering to the poor child was 
the intense cold. It was now November, and the bitter 
wind which whistled through the hole above his head 
seemed to freeze the blood in his veins. His little feet 
were chilled with remaining still so long ; but fortunately 
he had been brought up hardily at Valneige, and when 
he complained of cold he was told to warm himself by 
running about, and not to cry, for men did not cry for 
such trifles. 

So he knew how to do a great many exercises to make 
him warm, and he felt that now was the time to practise 
what he had learnt. 


OB, FAB FBOM HOMZ 83 

Alone in tlie cellar, and far from all human succour — 
for the carpenter gave no further sign of life — Adalbert’s 
little heart swelled with gratitude to the kind parents 
who had trained him in all manly ways, and he said to 
himself, “ Ah, if I had been cosseted like a little girl, 
what would have become of me now?” 

And so the brave little fellow did his exercises, and 
as soon as he got a little warmer, he again remembered 
the carpenter. ‘‘Was he there or was he not?” He 
could now see the door of the cellar, and he peered eagerly 
through the key-hole, but in vain. It was quite dark 
on the other side, and the child hastened back to his 
heap of dust, for there at least he got light and air. 
The mouth of the cellar seemed to him the only 
possible means of communication between him and the 
world. 

The lonely child was now, however, able to make out 
the objects about him pretty clearly, and close to the 
bottom of the door he noticed a freshly made semi- 
circular groove, and on the ground near to it a little pile 
of yellow dust, which was evidently wood reduced to 
powder by some patient worker. Adalbert was a sensible 
boy, and he remembered having heard the cook at home, 
just before they left Valneige, complain of the damage 
done by the rats ; indeed some holes they had made had 
had to be stopped up ; and here and there the woodwork 
they had gnawed with their sharp teeth had had to bo 
repaired, and Jane had said : 

“ Bother the brutes ! One would think a carpenter had 
been at work here.” 


84 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


And Gervais, who slept on the second floor on the same 
side of the house, had added : 

“ Keally, last night, if I had not known it was a rat 
gnawing the wood, instead of letting himself he caught in 
the trap I set for him, like a sensible beast, I could have 
sworn that I heard a carpenter at work.” 

All this led Adalbert to the conclusion that it was the 
dreaded black rat which had made all the noise, and 
that there had been no carpenter near him after all. 
This was a real comfort to the poor child’s over-burdened 
mind, but he had not long enjoyed the sense of relief 
before a new and serious cause for anxiety arose. 

What was that ? you ask. 

The poor child was becoming faint for want of food : 
yawn followed yawn, not from sleepiness, but from the 
exhaustion consequent on his long fast. He had a 
strange sinking sensation, his head throbbed, and he would 
have been glad enough of some of the gipsies’coarse soup. 

Every moment his sufferings from this cause became 
greater, and as he heard the clock above him strike at 
intervals, he felt that his hours were numbered, and each 
time the strokes sounded more like a knell. Dreadful 
thoughts rushed upon his mind : he had read a good deal 
for a child of his age, and knew many tales of travellers 
thrown upon a desert island, who did not know what 
would become of them ; but they were always sure to find 
two or three cocoa-nut trees, of which they could eat the 
fruit, or a wild bird, which they shot and cooked some- 
how, or at the worst a rock with shell-fish clinging to it ; 
whilst here in this cellar there was nothing but coal, 


on, FAR FROM SOMF. 


85 


wood, and empty bottles. Adalbert must either get out of 
it or die of starvation. 

As the day wore on the child got weaker and weaker, 
and in spite of himself his courage began to fail. He 
was afraid to move, as doing so seemed to make his craving 
for food greater. Cowering by the barrel, and leaning 
his aching head against it, he looked sadly up at the hole 
above him, still clinging to a hope that succour might 
come, for he did not forget that God could still see him 
and would not abandon him entirely ; and every now and 
then he sent up a touching prayer, which seemed to be 
answered by the peaceful, happy thoughts which sometimes 
came to cheer him. 

The prisoner now remembered having learnt the story 
of Joseph by heart, of Joseph whom God had rescued 
from the pit into which his cruel brothers had thrown 
him, and he said to himself : 

“ Joseph was almost as miserable as I am, and thought 
of Jacob as I do of papa— and his mother was dead. 
He had good reason to be dreadfully frightened, but he 
got out of the pit, and so shall I out of this cellar. Oh, 
God ! Thou wilt send some one to help me as thou didst 
to Joseph ! Have pity on me.” 

And so hope revived in his heart ; but a quarter of 
an hour later his despondency returned, for the re- 
membrance of his home rushed over him, and at the 
thought of all he had lost he was completely overcome ; 
bitter tears of repentance for his disobedience rolled 
down his cheeks, and he whispered softly, as if his 
parents could hear him : 


86 TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 

« Forgive me, papa I forgive me, mamma ! all of you at 
home, forgive me !” 

Suddenly he remembered something which affected 
him deeply. It was the 3rd of November, his birthday ; 
when the clock struck nine in the evening he would be 
nine years old, and there was always a little festivity in 
his honour on that day at home. It was the fashion at 
Valneige to make a great fuss about birthdays, for 
children were looked upon as blessings sent direct from 
Heaven. They were kissed and made much of by every 
one, they received presents from each member of the 
family, and Jane the cook prepared a grand spread with 
a great deal of mystery, to which Kosette added a few 
delicacies of her own making. 

On such occasions M. de Valneige was always more 
merry than usual. He would play with his children, and 
shut his eyes to any slight infractions of the rules ; and 
if anything really naughty was done he would look the 
other way, and pretend not to see it, rather than have to 
punish on a birthday. 

As for the dear mother, Adeline, as papa called her, 
she was always so good and patient that no difference was 
noticeable in her, her mere presence was enough to make 
everybody happy and contented; and if she had been 
missing when the party assembled, there would have 
been a general outcry of : 

“ Where is mamma ? it’s no fun without her !” 

“ What will they do at home to-day,” wondered 
Adalbert with a heavy sigh. “No one will say aloud, 
‘ He is nine years old to-day ’ . . . but every one will 


OB, FAB FBOM ROME. 


87 


remember it. There will be no games, papa will stay 
in bis arm-cbair reading the paper, and perhaps he will 
say at dinner : ‘ Adeline, you are eating nothing !’ but 
he would have no need to ask why ; he would know well 
enough that mamma was thinking of her poor little boy. 
Oh, how dreadful it all was !” 

Presently Adalbert’s attention was again distracted 
from his sad thoughts by one of those foolish terrors 
to which people of all ages are subject. A number of 
long thin black-beetles, with a great many legs, were 
running up and down the walls, and in and out of their 
little holes. Adalbert looked at them askance, hating 
to see them, and hating equally to kill them. Moreover, 
a huge spider occupied one corner of his refuge ; but it 
was so busy spinning its web that he soon ceased to 
notice it, concentrating all his attention on the black- 
beetles, which were the real objects of his horror. 

Miserable as he was in the cellar, Adalbert would 
gladly if he could have put back the hours, for he dreaded 
the night far more than the day. It had just struck 
four, and it was still light in the town and country, but 
down in the cellar it was rapidly getting dark, and with 
the daylight all poor Adalbert’s hopes of succour must 
fade away, and he must resign himself to all the vague 
terrors of the darkness, this time aggravated by the pangs 
of hunger. The poor child felt that it was all over with 
him, and that this his ninth birthday would be his last. 
His strength was rapidly failing him, his head drooped, 
his limbs felt listless and heavy, as if his last sleep were 
drawing near. A few faint rays of light still illuminated 


88 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


the wall opposite the mouth of the cellar, and Adalbert 
felt that when he had watched them disappear, he would 
never see the light of another dawn. 

A sudden tender impulse of affection for those whom 
he had lost now suggested to him the idea of writing 
their names on this wall with a bit of coal. He struggled 
painfully to his feet, and with a hand trembling from 
weakness and grief he wrote. Papa, Mamma, Camilla, 
&c., the hot tears bursting forth afresh as each familiar 
name was added. Bitterly indeed he now repented of 
all he had ever done wrong, of all the faults for which 
he had been punished ; but perhaps still more for those 
far more numerous errors which had escaped detection, 
and which God alone had seen. 

And in the depths of his repentance the poor little 
fellow knelt down, his heart almost breaking, and wrote 
in large letters : 

I was stolen because I was disobedient. It was all 
my own fault !’* 

And now the daylight had entirely faded, and Adalbert 
crept back to his plank, and crouching down upon it, 
leant against the barrel. ^The silence was so profound 
that he could hear his own laboured breath, and the 
very slightest movement of his worn-out limbs. 

A little later the rain began to fall outside, the wind 
rose, and shook the aspen trees by which the solitary 
homestead was surrounded. Then the child, fainting 
with hunger and worn-out with pain and sorrow, thought 
that what he felt was death, so he bowed his poor little 
head and murmured softly, “ Mamma !” 


OB, FAB FB03I HOME. 


89 


CHAPTEE X. 

Adalbeet hesitates. , 

For a long time Adalbert did not stir, and he thought that 
all his powers were really exhausted. It had just struck 
eight. The sky was black, and so covered with storm- 
clouds that the little star which Adalbert had named 
Adeline the night before was not visible; even that 
consolation was taken from him, and he lay and waited 
without quite knowing for what he waited. 

Suddenly he heard footsteps, then the brushing of a 
dress against the iron bar accross the mouth of the cellar, 
then a very sweet voice saying quite softly : 

Are you there, little one 

His heart beat violently, and he started to his feet, 
surprised at the strength his excitement gave him, then he 
began to think he had been dreaming, for he heard nothing 
more. 

In a state of the most indescribable anxiety he listened, 
and at last he again heard the same words : 

‘‘ Are you there, little one ?’’ 

“ Yes, yes, I am here,’’ cried Adalbert ; ‘‘ get me out ! 
get me out I” 

The prisoner had recognised Gella’s voice, which was 
always sweet and soft when she spoke low and kindly. She 
was stooping over the hole above Adalbert’s head, and a 


90 


THE HOWE ON WHEELS; 


faint light enabled him to see her face, but she could 
only make out a black mass. 

“ Listen,” she went on, “ I have brought a rope-ladder. 
I am going to fasten it to the iron bar, and you will climb 
up it ; once at the bar, I can help you through.” 

As she spoke Gella let something down, which Adalbert 
could just make out as it glided along the wall. He was 
not at all nervous about climbing up a rope-ladder, 
for he had had plenty of practice in that sort of thing at 
Valneige ; but he was afraid of being taken back to the 
‘‘ carriage,” and before he put himself into Gella’s power 
the following dialogue took place : 

Gella,” began Adalbert, ‘‘ if I come up, shall you take 
me back to the ‘ carriage’ ?” 

‘‘Yes.” 

“ I would rather stay here !” 

“ But, my poor little fellow, you will die of hunger,” 

“Does that hurt very much ?” 

“ Oh, yes, very much indeed !” 

“ Never mind, I would rather die.” 

But as he said “ I would rather die,” he instinctively 
caught hold of the rope-ladder, the only connecting link 
between him and the world. 

“ Come, come, don’t be silly, but make haste and come 
up ; father has promised not to beat you. You will die 
to-night, and the black-beetles will eat you.” 

At the words black-beetles the child felt such a horror 
come over him that he seized the ladder in both hands ; but, 
on the other hand, he had such a great dread of the life 
they would lead him in the “ carriage” that he determined 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME, 


91 


to make one last effort to escape from it, and kneeling down 
under tlie hole, where he thought Gella might perhaps 
be able to see him, he stretched out his arms in a supplicat- 
ing manner, and cried, the tears rolling down his cheeks : 

“Oh, Gella, Gella ! if I come up let me run away into 
the country. I shall perhaps be taken for a little thief, and 
I shall be put into prison, and get something to eat. I 
entreat, I beg, I pray of you, don’t take me back, don’t 
take me back ! Let me escape !” 

“ Impossible, impossible, my poor child.” 

“ Oh, but you will see that it is possible. Oh, don’t say 
no, I entreat you, for the love of God !” and then, remem- 
bering that God was unknown in the “ carriage,” Adalbert 
added very softly : 

“Have pity on me for the sake of those you love 1” 

And as she answered nothing he asked : 

“Have you never loved any one ?” 

“ I should think not, indeed !” replied Gella, roughly ^ 
but then she went on in a gentle, caressing voice, “ but I 
love you just now, you poor little chap ; and I got a good 
beating when I made them promise not to hurt you.” 

“ You really love, me then ?” 

And the child left off crying, climbed up the ladder, 
and when he felt Gella’s sturdy hands upon his head, he 
breathed more freely, and grateful affection for the poor 
girl filled his heart. 

She helped him up with great dexterity, and his feet ou 
the ladder and his hands resting on the iron bar, he suc- 
ceeded, after several unsuccessful efforts, in climbing on ta 
the ground. His first thought when he felt himself in 

H 


92 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


safety was to fling liis arms round the ragged girl to whom 
he owed his life, and thank her for saving him. 

“Well,” she said, “you’re not afraid now?” 

“ Oh, no.” 

“ Why were you afraid ? ” 

“ Because I was not too sure whether you had a heart,” 
re^^lied Adalbert naively, and Gella answered with a heavy 
sigh : 

“ Ah well, in our trade there’s no knowing whether one 
has one or not. That’s the fault of circumstances, but 
you needn’t be afraid any longer. Let’s take this short 
cut. Can you walk fast ? ” 

“ Oh no, I’m too hungry.” 

“ Ah, yes, I had forgotten : here is half my bread, which 
1 saved for you.” 

Adalbert seized the bread offered, only too glad, gentle- 
man though he was, to eat up the leavings of a poor 
strolling dancer. 

When they got into the fields Gella saw that Adalbert’s 
legs tottered so he could hardly walk, and the great strong 
girl, whose goodness of heart had but lain dormant for 
want of something to call it out, made him climb upon her 
back, and passing one of his legs under each of her sturdy 
arms, she made for a group of young oaks, near to which 
the “ carriage ” was now stationed. As they went along she 
asked him why he had run away, and why he had made 
himself black all over, and he exjDlained how much he had 
wished to get away from the “ carriage” and everybody in 
it, and how he had hoped that Hercules would not know 
him again. 


OR, FAR FROM HOME. 


93 


“ I am not at all surprised, Moustapha,” said Gella, and 
tlie ice once broken, the new friends chatted together in 
quite a confidential manner. 

“ I had not the slightest doubt you were in that collar. 
Why did you not answer me yesterday evening when I 
called you ? I suppose you thought me very wicked.” 

“I did not know what to think. When they beat 
Natches you said nothing.’’ 

“Ah well, that happens so often that one does not 
notice it any more, and then, poor boy, he’s so stupid, he 
brings blows upon himself where he might easily avoid 
them. Now that I think of it, I suppose he is not happy. 
But, you see, when one has been cuffed ever since one can 
remember oneself, one doesn’t think much of others being 
treated in the same style.” 

“ But Natches looks good.” 

“Say he looks stupid, and I’ll agree with you. Ke 
understands nothing but turning somersaults. He gets 
more and more stupid as he grows bigger.” 

“ Perhaps that’s because nobody loves him.” 

“ Ah well, perhaps so. I never thought of that. But 
don’t let’s talk about him, let’s talk about ourselves. You 
know I love you now.” 

“ Oh yes, because you were beaten for my sake. That 
was good of you ! But tell me what happened when they 
found I was gone.” 

“ Oh, my father came home furious, you know he said 
I was to be responsible for you, Moustapha.” 

“ Oh, Gella, will you do me a very great favour?” 

“ Well, what now ? ” 


II 


9 


94 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


“ Don’t call me by that horrid name when we are alone. 
Call me what they did at home — Adalbert.” 

“ Oh, my dear child, what are you asking ? that is really 
impossible.” 

“ Well, then, call me what you did just now, when you 
said so softly, ‘ Little one, are you there ? ’ ” 

“ Oh, yes, I’ll do that if you like. Well, I was telling 
you that my father was furious. He set off to search the 
town, and a woman stopped him, and spoke of the inspector 
of police. Then he said he saw you, and so saved himself. 
When we met and you were still missing he fell upon me 
and beat me ; oh ! such blows he gave me, such blows 
that I, who am always so afraid of him, lost my temper 
and defied him to his face.” 

“ What, you dared ! ” 

“ Yes, I was beside myself ; I told him that I was very 
glad I had lost you, for you were too miserable with him, 
and I added : I know where he is, but I wont go and 
fetch him for fear you should beat him. If he tells of you 
so much the worse for you.” 

“ He began to swear again, and to beat me . • . ” 

Poor Gella, all that for me ! ” 

“ And I ended by shouting in his ear : ‘Very well, you 
won’t get him back unless you promise not to strike him 
if I fetch him.’. . . I don’t know why, but the last words 
had a wonderfully soothing effect, for he said quite gently, 
‘ Go and fetch him then, I won’t touch him, and I’ll forbid 
the mother to punish him.’ ” 

“ Oh, dear Gella, how grateful I am to you ! But did you 
know all the time that I was in that cellar ? 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


95 


“ I was sure of it ; and I was so miserable about you, 
more miserable than I ever was before about anybody, and 
I said to myself : ‘ If I leave him there wbat a terrible 
death ! and if I fetch him out what a terrible life ! 

But, Gella, if you really love me, why wouldn’t you 
let me escape ? ” 

“ Oh, my poor little fellow, the whole town is in a state 
of excitement about a lost child, and if you escaped you 
would be asked questions, and my father would be put in 
prison ; but before he was taken away he would kill me, 
and you would be the cause. You wouldn t like to do me 
harm, would you ? ” 

“ Oh, no, no ; I will be good,” replied Adalbert, affection- 
ately, whose gratitude had made him very fond of his 
strange protectress already. 

Adalbert said no more, but kept his eyes fixed on a 
lantern in the distance which dimly lit up the young oak 
trees. It was the lantern of the carriage.” 

When they were about a hundred yards from it Gella 
put the child down, and took his hand. All thought of 
fiight was now abandoned. Adalbert would not have 
minded being the cause of Hercules being put in prison, 
but to bring down, the angry vengeance of such a man 
upon Gella — Gella who had rescued him from his dreadful 
situation — would be too shameful a piece of ingratitude. 
So he walked quietly beside her, taking two steps to her one. 

When they reached the ‘’carriage” the poor boy began to 
tremble all over, but Gella squeezed his hand, and he took 
heart again ; her very presence was a protection. 

Ke- assuming her rough manners, partly from force of 


96 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


habit, and partly as a matter of policy, Gclla cried 
abruptly : 

“Well, lieres your little brat. Come, Moustaplia, 
climb up, and be quick about it.” 

Every one was asleep except the man of the iron hand, 
and he said not a word. Adalbert, almost dying with 
fright, climbed back into the “carriage,” followed by Gella. 
The door was shut, and Adalbert scarcely dared to 
breathe. 

Then ensued a terrible scene, which baffles description. 
The gipsy, indignant at Gella’s carelessness, had been 
nursing his anger all this time. He had promised not to 
touch Adalbert, and he kept his word, but he vented all 
his fury on his unfortunate daughter. She had upset all 
his plans, and their route would have to be changed, as 
they would have to recross the Bhine, and keep quiet 
until the rumours set afloat in the town were foi’gotten. 
A few fierce broken words from between lips compressed 
with rage told what was coming, accompanied by a look 
which Gella knew only too well, and which resembled 
nothing so much as the glare of a tiger about to spring 
upon his prey. She was foolish enough to utter a few 
deprecatory words, at which her father flung himself 
upon her and began beating her savagely. 

It really seemed for a moment as if the unnatural 
father had forgotten she was his daughter, and was 
determined to put an end to her then and there. Poor 
little Adalbert was beside himself with distress, he 
rushed forward, and clung to the arm of the tyrant, re- 
ceiving, unheeded, some of the blows intended for Gella. 


OR, FAR FROM ROME. 


97 


No one else in tlie caravan moved or took any notice, 
except little Tilly who, with nothing on but her little 
shirt, run forward with clasped hands and streaming eyes, 
looking like an angel sent direct from Heaven. Adalbert 
thought with a shudder that it would be her turn next ; 
but no, the fury of Hercules seemed to be passing over, 
for, with a muttered curse, he turned away and went and 
sat down on the outside of the carriage.” A few minutes 
later the “ carriage ” was moving again in the direction of 
the Ehine, the weary horse urged on to its utmost speed 
with many a blow from the master’s w'hip. 

Gella, pale as death and half fainting, lay stretched on 
the floor between Adalbert and Tilly. The latter was 
soon called away by the old woman, and dared not dis- 
obey ; but the recaptured fugitive was allowed to remain 
beside her who had said to him, “ I love you,” and he 
w’atched her anxiously, thinking she must be going to die, 
because her black locks were dyed crimson with the 
blood which was pouring from a wound in her head. 

You see,” she said in a low voice, with her eyes still 
closed, “ what will happen to me if you run away again, I 
shall be quite killed next time ! ” 

And Adalbert, forgetting his parents, his home, and his 
own country, in his horror at the sight of the blood which 
had been shed for him, threw himself at the feet of the 
poor girl, his heart swelling with pity and gratitude, and 
took this solemn oath : “ Gella, I swear to you that I will 
never run away again when you are responsible for me ; I 
give you my word of honour 1 ” 

Gella opened her great eyes full of scalding tears, and, 


98 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


looking into Adalbert’s earnest, loving face, she answered 
briefly, “ I believe you.” 

All night long Adalbert watched his new friend’s 
suffering. With his own hands he bathed her wounds, 
and washed away the blood from her face and hair, 
wishing he could think of something to relieve her, and at 
last he whispered: ‘‘Take courage, there is a Heaven 
above us !” 

The next day, when he saw Hercules again, Adalbert 
remembered his oath, and felt that he was not only the 
prisoner of his dreaded master, but that he was bound 
to remain with him by all the ties of gratitude and 
honour. 


CHAPTEK XI. 

Adalbert’s name upon the Wall. 

Vert pretty and tasty did the little white house look 
when the blinds were at last drawn up on the return of 
sirring, and very glad were its owners to get back to it. 
It V as the perfection of a country residence, like a little 
nest surrounded by clustering leaves, neither very grand 
nor very poor looking, but a peaceful retreat, just the 
thing for quiet lonely people with no love of show. 

Of this class were M. and Madame Deschamps, the 
happy possessors of this little cottage. They had of 
course been young like all the rest of the world, and now 
they were old, as every one must be who lives long 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME, 


99 


enough. From the very first, when they were obliged 
to reside in a town, and their babies had not done teething 
before they had said : When our children are married 
we will get ourselves a little box in the country.” 

And now the time had come. Thirty long years had 
passed over the heads of the happy couple, who had been 
from the first well suited to each other, but had now 
become so entirely of one mind that M. Deschamps, who 
hated cream in his chocolate when he married, now took 
it as a matter of course ; and Madame Deschamps, who 
had detested dogs, had become sincerely attached to her 
husband’s faithful Tom. 

The worthy pair had been spending the winter with 
their married daughters, entering into all their cares, and 
sharing all their pleasures. Happy as the;^ had been, 
however, it was with fresh delight that they returned to 
their little “ box,” which had come to them through the 
death of a relation, and which, what with its solitude, 
garden full of flowers, its pond full of fish, and the shady 
trees all round it, left nothing to be desired. Perhaps 
its chief charm lay in its seclusion, for you couldn’t 
even hear a bit of scandal without w’alking some hundred 
yards ! 

In this favoured spot everybody was fond of everybody 
else. The master and mistress w^ere Avaited upon by a 
certain Sophie, who was all that became one wdiose name 
means wisdom : a model of order and economy, who 
acted as cook, housemaid, nurse, or housekeeper as occa- 
sion required. She generally went, however, by the name 
of Nurse. , ^ 


100 THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


The only other servant was Sophie’s hnshand, Julian, 
who, like his wife, held many offices, and was a regular 
j ack- of -all-trades. 

We must not forget to introduce Tom, a faithful, 
honest, sober-minded dog, who, for want of a more 
suitable companion, had struck up a great friendship 
with an equally well conducted cat, a. grimalkin who 
never dreamt of such a thing as a theft, but was content 
to pace behind his mistress when she made her rounds in 
the garden, stopping when she stopped in a solicitous 
manner, which afforded the good old lady ever fresh 
delight. 

A pair of sparrows belonging to Sophie, which she 
kept in a large cage in the kitchen ; a cock and a few 
fowls, whose duty it was to keep their mistress supplied 
with fresh eggs, completed the menage ; and the “ pond,” 
which was not much more than a pool, was a source 
of endless gratification to M. Deschamps and of anxiety 
to his careful wife, for the good man had a positive 
passion for fishing, and would sit for hours with his feet 
on the damp grass on a wet day, watching his line 
hanging as motionless as if it were in a shop wundow, and 
feeling fully repaid if he caught so much as a minnow. 

“Of course I know he’s well wrapped up,” Madame 
Deschamps would say to herself, “ and he’s got cork soles 
in his boots, and overshoes on ; but for all that, I’d 
much rather he’d stay indoors and read, write, or even 
make boxes.” 

We must explain that carpentering was another of 
M. Deschamps’ hobbies, and that he had made one of the 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


101 


rooms of the ground floor into a workshop, which his 
wife had fitted up with green curtains to keep it cool in 
the summer, and with a stove to make it warm in the 
winter. She liked to hear her “ dear Eaymond ” ham- 
mering or planing, for there was no fear of his catching 
cold or getting over-heated in his little workshop, where 
he turned out dozens of boxes, fitting into each other, for 
the delight of his grandchildren. Gladly would Madame 
Deschamps have turned the key upon him on wet days ; 
for when was a fisherman known to listen to reason ? Do 
not the fish bite better in wet weather than in fine ? and 
could any one expect more of poor M. Deschamps than 
that he should submit to be half stifled by wraps when he 
went out in the rain? Sometimes the much-enduring 
man would say : “ What nonsense it is ! Have I not a 
perfect right to get wet through if I choose ?” and Madame 
Deschamps would venture on no further remonstrance 
than an ominous grunt, for she would not have quarrelled 
for the world ; but next time she passed the kitchen door 
she would look in at Sophie with a meaning shake of the 
head, for she knew the good old “nurse” was on her 
side, and would say, thinking of her own Julian : 

“ Well I never ! but there now, ma’am, they’re all alike, 
these men I” 

And with that she would begin thinking what present 
she should give her “ man ” on their wedding-day, or on 
his birthday, whilst her mistress would busy herself in 
airing some clean clothes for her rebellious spouse, ready 
for him to put on directly he came in ; for she had found 
out that men are always more willing to put on what is 


102 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


laid out ready for tliem than to go to a wardrobe and 
fetch what they want for themselves. 

Although it was the cause of so much trouble, Madame 
Deschamps did not bear any ill-will against the pond, 
on the contrary, she took quite a pride in it for her 
husband’s sake. She it was who had the banks swept 
and kept clear of rubbish, and with her own hands she 
had planted a weeping-willow beside it, which now, 
thanks to her constant care, was growing to be a goodly 
tree, drooping over the water, and casting its shadow 
across as prettily as could be. Every day, too, after 
dinner, Madame Deschamps might be seen at the edge 
of the pond calling to the fish in a caressing voice, and 
feeding them with crumbs and dainty morsels of bread 
cut up on purpose for them. It pleased her husband 
to see her do this, and so she never missed a day ; and 
as for the fish, they didn’t know their friends from 
their enemies, for they were ready to run away from 
M. Deschamps, who was so fond of them, and to hurry 
to meet his wife, w^ho did not care for them a bit. 

Another great source of interest was the kitchen garden, 
in which M. Deschamps and Julian worked as heartily as 
the sons of the labourer in La Fontaine’s well-known fable. 
The onions were fine ; the spinage superb ; the radishes as 
plentiful as possible ; and lettuces cropped up every- 
where, even where they had not been sown. It was but 
a little place this kitchen-garden, with only two paths a 
hundred yards across each way at the most, but what did 
that matter ? There was something for every one to do 
in it. The master and Julian dug and planted, the 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME, 


103 


mistress pulled up the weeds directly they showed their 
heads, and Sophie picked everything she could, and threw 
it into her saucepan. 

All this will give you some idea of the quiet, peaceful 
life led by the inmates of the White House, as the pretty 
little villa was called, and you will understand how glad 
they always were to welcome the spring. The only 
thing to break the peaceful monotony of the house and 
garden was a visit from some little grandson, niece, or 
nephew, who would never tire of running round the 
narrow paths with Tom or the cat; but the good old 
couple never invited more than one child at a time, for 
two might quarrel, and that would create too much 
disturbance. 

It was with even greater pleasure than usual that 
Madame Deschamps this year made her preparations for 
the return home. The country always agreed better than 
the town with her husband, and their daughter lived 
so near to them that they could easily run over for the 
day. Besides, they had a few friends in the little village 
hard by, and could often have them in to a good dinner or 
a little evening party, so that there was no fear of beiug 
dull. 

Even in the winter the little villa was not entirely 
deserted. A gardener went over every now and then ta 
dig up the beds or sow some early potatoes; and 
M. Deschamps would indulge himself in three or four 
visits just to see how things were going on, and to give 
the gardener a few directions. He always made a point 
of going into the drawing-room, which was his wife’s 


104 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


favourite sanctum, and winding up the clock. This 
clock was a great treasure to Madame Deschamps, for her 
husband had given it to her on the first anniversary 
of their marriage. Its clear ringing strokes could be 
heard all over the house, and even in the cellar. It was 
adorned with a fine bronze group of the Mother of the 
Gracchi with her noble boys. Unfortunately all Madame 
Deschamps’s children were girls, or she would doubt- 
less have brought up sons as ready to defend their 
country as those of Cornelia ; but she herself felt no 
regret on that score. Her daughters were all good wives 
and mothers, and what more could any one desire ? 

It was on the 22nd of March that the family returned 
in the year of which we are writing. Ah, how much 
there always is to do on the day of one’s arrival at home 
after a long absence ! Every one was in the best of 
humours, and by a natural division of labour it fell to 
Julian’s share to sweep away the cobwebs : armed with a 
good sized broom he carried all before him, like Attila with 
his hordes, making way, however, unlike him, for the 
sweet influences of civilisation as represented by Sophie 
and her household utensils. Following her husband at 
a respectable distance, the good woman was ready to 
carry off the dead bodies of the victims in her dustpan as 
soon as ever she was fully assured that the victory was 
won. Soon the two had reduced everythiug above 
ground to something like order, and left the mistress 
to put the finishing touches, which she did by dusting the 
furniture washing, the ornaments, the clock, and so forth, 
and feeling more than rewarded when all was done by 


OB, FAB FBOAI HOME. 


105 


her clear Eaymoncl saying, “ How nice everything here 
looks 1” 

Sophie’s next care after the cleaning was clone was to 
see about dinner, and, in order to get a good blazing fire 
in the kitchen with as little delay as possible, she got a 
candle and set off for the cellar to fetch a few logs and 
chips of wood. She goes down the stairs, she opens the 
door, she looks in . . . But what does she see ? A plank 
by the barrel, the little coal there was left scattered about 
in 'every direction, and a few steps from her a yellow 
ribbon with the ends knotted together. . . . 

Perceiving by these signs that some one had recently been 
in the cellar, which was always kept so carefully locked, 
Sophie at first felt a not unnatural sensation of fear. But 
as she had no mind to be laughed at by her husband, 
she looked carefully about everywhere before she gave the 
alarm ; and at last, having made sure that there was not 
so much as a cat in the cellar, she called to J ulian and her 
master and mistress in as firm and courageous a voice as 
she could command, to come and see what she had found. 

The men were greatly surprised, and Madame Deschamps, 
one of whose weaknesses it was to be afraid of her own 
shadow, made the most of the present opportunity. 
All four agreed that it was very extraordinary, and as 
it was quite inexplicable to them all, the explanations 
hazarded were numerous, and all equally wide of the mark. 
When there was really nothing more to be said, and all 
began to feel that they were not doing much towards 
getting dinner ready, they prepared to remount the stairs ; 
but as she was turning round Madame Deschamps caught 


lOG 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


siglit of some words written on tlie wall with a piece of coal. 
AVe all know the story of King Belshazzar, and remember 
with what horror he was seized at the sight of the. 
mysterious hand tracing the three words he could not 
read upon the wall of the banquetting-house. Poor 
Sidonie Deschamps was scarcely less dismayed when she 
read the names : ‘‘ Papa ! Mamma ! Camilla ! Eugene I 
Frederick! Eosette 1 Yalneige 1 ” 

M. Deschamps himself looked grave and sad, and Julian,, 
who had once been a soldier, allowed a few rather strong 
expressions to fall from his lips in the excitement of the 
moment. As for Sophie, her composure completely upset ; 
she crossed herself, and blurted out that she believed the 
Evil One had been in the cellar, and that nothing would 
ever induce her to set foot in it again. 

“ Come, come,” said her master, rather sternly, ‘‘before 
you allow yourself to get into such a fright just consider 
how little ground there is for fear. Some one has been 
here there is no doubt, but the devil’s business is with souls, 
not with empty bottles, and he is not likely to waste his 
time writing names on walls: most likely those names 
only mean innocent family recollections.” Sophie breathed 
rather more freely, for she had a great respect for M. 
Deschamps’ opinion on every subject except fishing. She 
still held her candle in her hand, and, moving it up and 
down the wall, to see if there was anything else to discover* 
she suddenly pointed to some words not before noticed, 
and exclaimed : 

“ More writing ! oh, read it, read it, mistress dear ! ” 

Her mistress read it in a voice shaken by feeling : 


Olt, FAlt FROM HOME. 


107 


“ I was stolen because I was disobedient. It was all 
niy fault.” 

Lower down still were tbe words : 

“ My name is Adalbert de Valneige. . • I shall be nine 
years old this evening. . . I am hungry ! ” 

None but a mother could realise good Madame 
Deschamps’ feelings at that moment. A child had been 
shut up in this cellar alone and deserted. He had wept 
there ! He had been hungry ! 

She picked up the yellow ribbon, and said with a sob : 

“ Oh, God ! and the poor child has a mother ! ” 

Her husband took her hand ; “ Come, Sidonie,” he said, 
“ calm yourself, don’t take it too much to heart. I’ll go 
to the police inspector early to-morrow morning and have 
a legal investigation set on foot. Perhaps, with God’s 
help, we may be able to trace the poor little fellow.” 

“ As you will, Eaymond, but I shall keep the ribbon. 
I will show it if need be, but I won’t give it up.” 

‘‘ Why not ? ” 

“ Because when the child has been restored to his 
mother I mean to send her the ribbon, and the poor 
woman will keep it all her life as a souvenir.” 

Bather a melancholy one,” observed Sophie. 

“ Ah, Sophie, you are not a mother ! . . . She will 
think the ribbon a melancholy souvenir, as everybody 
must; but for all that she will look at it when she is 
alone, and touch it tenderly.” 

The maternal instinct was now so thoroughly awakened 
in Madame Deschamps’ heart that, as they all went 
upstairs together, her thoughts flew to her little grand- 

1 


108 


TUE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


daughter Genevieve, v>dio was always ready to run rather 
too far from her parents or her nurse when she was out 
rolling her hoop. 

‘‘I must write and warn her mother to-morrow,” 
exclaimed Madame Deschamps. “ Suppose they were to 
run away with the poor little girl too ! ” 

And so this one event was the cause of very different 
feelings in each member of the party. M. Deschamps, a 
sensible and practical man, thought of police inspectors 
and agents, legal investigations, letters to the newspapers, 
and so forth. Madame Deschamps thought of the grief of 
Adalbert’s mother, and shuddered at the bare idea of a 
similar misfortune happening to one of her own daughters. 
Sophie, much relieved that the Evil One had had nothing 
to do with the matter, and looking forward to telling the 
tale some hundreds of times, and showing the mysterious 
lines to all her acquaintances, had a secret dread that her 
onion sauce would not be done enough ; whilst Julian, who 
was something of a mathematician, wondered how in the 
world the child had got out of the cellar. To get in was 
easy enough, but to get out was quite another matter. 
Finally, he decided that he must have had help ; then ho 
noticed how the door of the cellar had been gnawed by 
the rats ; and finally, without however forgetting Adalbert^ 
he laid schemes of vengeance against them. 


07?, T^^T? FROM HOME. 


109 


CHAPTEE XII. 

Adalbert is everywhere the subject of conversation. 

“ Ah ! so you’ve got back at last.” 

“ Yes, and we’ve brought the fine weather with us.” 

“ A good thing too ; what a winter we’ve had, to be 
sure ! Such rain, I declare my legs have been quite stiff 
with pottering about in the wet.” 

“ I can well believe it ! ” 

‘‘ But it’s no use grumbling, Madame Julian, as long as 
there are four seasons in the year we must take the weather 
as it comes.” 

“ Well, let’s hope you made some good bargains, at all 
events.” 

‘‘ Oh, I’ve sold nothing but apples this year, and as 
long as there are any to sell I shall go on selling them. 
As for violets and early potatoes, there are none to be had.” 

“ That’s a pity, but there are worse troubles than that 
in the world.” 

“ Ah, indeed, neighbour Tourtebonne, I believe you ! ” 

This dialogue took place in front of the White House, 
the two women standing by the truck. They were 
always very pleased to meet after their separation for the 
winter, and generally had a chat together about twice a 
w^eek. On this particular day each had something special 
to communicate to the other without knowing that it was 
the same subject which agitated them both, and each was 

I 2 


110 


THE BOUSE ON WHEELS; 


anxious to lead up to her story. Sophie, seeing that the 
early potatoes had nothing to do with what was on her 
mind, tried to put things in better train by saying : 

“ Well, yes, here we are back again .... and Fm 
not sorry for it. For my part I love the country ; IVe 
only one thing to complain of here, and that’s the 
loneliness.” 

“You don’t say so, with a nice little town a hundred 
yards off?” 

“ I do though, and if we were only ten yards off it would 
be much better.” 

“You don’t mean to say you are getting nervous? — 
that is a good joke ! ” 

“ I used not to be, but I am getting so.” 

“ But whatever can there be to be afraid of here? The 
house is as strong as a fort when it’s shut up; no one 
could possibly get in ! ” 

“ Somebody did, for all that !” 

“ Through the keyhole ? ” 

“ No, through the mouth of the cellar.” 

“ Don’t tell me ! Why, I couldn’t get one of my legs 
into it.” 

That was very likely, for you must know that Madame 
Tourtebonne was a very big woman, as round and plump 
as possible, and being quite used to this state of things it 
never struck her that slim folks might squeeze in where 
she could not. Sophie’s fears therefore appeared to her 
altogether unfounded, and her face expressed such utter 
incredulity that the cook, only too glad of the excuse 
went on : 


OB, FAR FROM HOME, 


111 


“ You don’t believe me ? Come and see for yourself, 
then.” 

At this the truck was wheeled into the yard, and Sophie, 
lighting her candle, led the way to the cellar. 

“ Clever fellows they must be,” laughed good-natured 
Madame Tourtebonne, “ who got into your cellar through 
the hole at the top, why it’s as much as I can do to get 
down your stairs. They really are absurdly narrow. 
What could the builder have been thinking of?” 

Groping along as best she could, for the candle did 
not give much light, Madame Tourtebonne at last found 
herself in the cellar. Once on level ground, Sophie gave 
a full and particular account of all that had taken place 
the day of the arrival at home, describing her own fright, 
the position of the planks, the yellow ribbon, repeating 
wdiat the master and mistress had said, and what Julian 
had said ; and when the applewoman had been duly pre- 
pared for a startling revelation, her friend made her turn 
towards the wall and read the words written with coal. 

When she came to “My name is Adalbert,” she 
suddenly stopped short and exclaimed : 

“ It is he, my dear ! it is he ! Poor little fellow ! poor 
little darling ! To thinlc of that now ! I never could have 
believed it ! ” 

So overcome was Madame Tourtebonne by this coin- 
cidence that she recoiled several paces, and would have 
fallen on the empty bottles if Sophie had not called out : 

“ Take care ! ” 

At that the good creature, fearing danger behind her, 
flung herself forwards, and stepped with a crash into the 


112 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


pile of coal dust, some of wliicli flew all over lier clean 
wliite apron. Too mucli excited to notice this, although 
she was generally most scrupulously neat, she kept re- 
peating, “ It is he ! It is he ! ” until at last Soj^hie thought 
she must he going out of her mind. She soon saw, how- 
ever, that she was mistaken, for her old friend, taking out 
her handkerchief and wiping her eyes, proceeded to give 
an account of her having met a pretty fair little fellow 
last November, who looked very frail and delicate, and, 
to use her favourite expression, had slipped through her 
fingers. In ten minutes Sophie knew all there was to 
know, including the gloomy looks of the pretended father, 
his dread of the inspector of police, the words extorted 
from M. Baptist, who had witnessed the whole, and their 
joint communication to the police made the very same 
evening. 

If the truck full of commodities for sale had not been 
waiting up-stairs, and if the breast of veal on the fire 
had not required attention, there is no knowing how 
long the two women would have remained in the cellar. 
Madame Tourtebonne’s conjectures were inexhaustible; 
she was full of fancies about the boy, and had become so 
fond of him that she sometimes spoke of him as my poor 
child. 

Sophie, of course, told her master and mistress of what 
Madame Tourtebonne had said, and many were the eager 
questions they asked her. Only too delighted to see the 
matter in such good hands, she told all she knew, and a 
good deal more. M. Deschamps, without believing all he 
heard, felt that her testimony might prove useful; and 


OB, FAB FB03I HOME, 


113 


Madame Descliamps, wlio had done nothing but think of 
the child since the discovery, began to have fresh hope of 
his restoration to his mother. 

Many indeed were the castles in the air built by tho 
good old soul as she lay awake of a night, in all of which 
the “ hero of the cellar,” as Sophie called him, played the 
principal part. All these wonderful fancies were, how- 
ever, rather scouted by M. Deschamps and Julian, and now 
and then the former remarked with quiet irony that he 
thought he had heard rather too much about Adalbert, 
and that one well-timed effort on his ]3art would do more 
to further his interests than all the talking and sighs 
in the world. To this there could bc no reply, and 
so Sidonie would take out her work and introduce some 
other subject. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

Adalbert has now been Eighteen Months in the 
“ Carriage.” 

The poor little exile from Yalneige was growing up far 
from the paternal roof. To a certain extent his body ha i 
become accustomed to the rudeness of his present life, but 
his heart and spirit still rebelled. 

• Through it all, however, he did not lose hope or 
courage, and he never forgot how often his father had 
told him that the very worst thing that could happen 
to any one in trouble was to become discouraged. 


114 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


All ! ” he thought to himself, “I am a man now like 
papa in everything hut age and size. I must be brave !” 

Poor child, surrounded by strangers, he was sustained 
by the remembrance of his home ; and his misfortunes, by 
early maturing his judgment, had taught him better to 
appreciate the value of his father’s noble character. 

Natches was unfortunately no companion for him, as 
his intelligence was completely blunted. Servile obedience 
was his one idea, and his unconsciousness of the horrors 
around him did much to soften his situation. 

With Tilly, however, it was different, she was so weak 
and suffering that Adalbert could not but take a tender 
interest in her. She had a troublesome cough, which 
seldom left her, and her chest was so delicate that a mother 
would have been anxious about her ; but poor little Tilly 
did not know what a mother meant. As she w.as pretty, 
docile, and quick, she never gave any one an excuse for 
finding fault with her, but for all that the old grand- 
mother managed sometimes to pick a quarrel with her. 
If she was getting ready for a fair, and the poor child 
looked ill, she was scolded, so she did all she could to hide 
the increase of “ her cold ” as she called it. This cold 
was in fact general debility, often accompanied by slight 
fever and a readiness to shed tears without any apparent 
cause. At such times she would say to Adalbert, who was 
always so considerate for her weakness : 

“ I have got a pain all over me ; but I don’t mind it 
much.” 

The two children seldom talked, however. Adalbert 
was more closely watched than ever, not only to prevent 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME, 


115 


a second attempt at escape, but for fear that he should 
burst out with some bold protest against his detention. 
But, in spite of the constant surveillance, the little invalid 
had managed to tell him that she had no recollection of 
her early childhood, and that the “carriage” was the only 
home she had ever known. Although she had never seen 
any other style of living than that of the gipsies, she 
shrank instinctively from all they said or did ; her appear- 
ance alone would have been enough to prove that she was 
of another race than theirs, and her reluctance to call the 
old woman “ grandmother ” showed that she had some con- 
sciousness of the difference herself. She was astonished 
to find in Adalbert one who combined force of will with 
a tender heart, and who could yield without servility. In 
her rare talks with him she learnt that she too had a soul^ 
and that there was a heaven for her. 

“ Do you think I shall go to heaven ?” she asked one 
day with touching simplicity. 

“ Oh, yes, I’m sure you will ; for mamma said every one 
goes who wishes to do right, who does not do wrong on 
purpose, and who loves the good God with all his heart.” 

“ I did not love Him before, because I did not know 
Him ; but tell me, do you think it will be a very long 
time, a very long time before I go to heaven ?” 

“ We can never tell those things beforehand.” 

“ I don’t think it will be long myself, because of my 
cold. When I cough I have a pain in my back — perhaps 
that is death coming, and after death heaven !” 

“ Perhaps, but I don’t know.” 

And so the poor little prisoner imparted the good 


116 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


lessons lie had received from his parents to the patient 
invalid, and when she wanted to prove her affectionate 
gratitude, she would watch for a private opportunity, and 
softly repeat his own name : 

“ Adalbert, Adalbert.” 

Which always gave the little exile the greatest 
pleasure. 

Meanwhile the great rough Gella became more and 
more attached to her little protege, although her manner 
of speaking to him remained as rude and abrupt as ever. 
Adalbert felt quite secure of her affection, and proved 
his gratitude to her by rendering her every little service 
in his power. 

When, as now and then happened, commissions or 
some work connected with the wandering household 
separated these two from the rest of the party, Gella 
dropped her rough manners, and became gentle and kind. 
She too, like Tilly, discovered that she had a soul and a 
heart into the bargain : a heart which was warmed with 
something of maternal solicitude for the child she had 
saved. In her intercourse with Adalbert she received 
more than she gave, but she was not quite so ready to 
accept all he told her about heaven and the future as the 
simple little Tilly. Sometimes she would say : 

“ Come now, little one, I don’t understand much about 
these things. I’m not clever, I never learnt to do any- 
thing but work for my daily bread ; I’m a stupid girl, I 
am. The good God’s not likely to love a good-for- 
nothing girl like me, who lives without knowing why 
or how.” 


OE, FAE FEOM HOME. 


117 


And Adalbert answered : 

‘‘ But mamma said He loves all tbe world, and are not 
you one of tbe people wbo make up tbe world ? Ob, Gella, 
He knows you, He knows everybody’s name, and every- 
body’s face !” 

Tbe boy’s voice was so earnest, and be looked so 
truthful and loving as be spoke, that the poor girl was 
often more than half persuaded, and felt her heart glow 
with something of her little teacher’s fervour. 

One thing, which had now for some time puzzled 
Adalbert, was Gella’s great desire to knov/ how to write, 
or at least how to write certain words which were always 
the same. There was not apparently any connection 
between these words, yet Gella had evidently some im- 
portant scheme in view which she was most careful to 
conceal. Often when she was alone with the prisoner 
she would take a stick, and with it make a clumsy copy 
on the ground of the letters of which he gave her a 
pattern. 

“But why do you always choose the same words?” 
inquired the young teacher. 

“ Hold your tongue, master,” Gella would answer, 
laughing. “ How make me some a’s, and fs, and o’s, that 
I may write father^ you^ &c., &c. I have my reasons.” 

Then the child, without understanding why she wanted 
them, wrote the words with a little stick on the ground, 
which his pupil copied so awkwardly that he would rub 
the Vvhole out by walking over it, pronouncing it “ Bad, 
very bad.” These mysterious lessons were quite a 
recreation to the poor child in his exile from Valneige. 


118 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


On tlie other hand Gella taught Adalbert all manner of 
tliiugs. She it was who made him do what she called 
“ his exercises ” every day : that is to say, she made him 
jump, wrestle, and bend and swing his limbs about, to 
make him supple and active. He learnt very readily, and 
soon became so expert that the master — sending forth a 
cloud of smoke from his big pipe, which was his way 
of expressing satisfaction — remarked that he was a pro- 
mising boy. His natural aptitude and wish to please 
Gella brought him forward so rapidly in the one study 
which was required of him, that it was not long before he 
was considered fit to figure with his fellow-sufferers at the 
fairs and village fetes. A sad lot for a boy like him, 
to be dressed like a rope-dancer, to play tricks, dance 
and jump until he was ready to drop with fatigue, and 
finally to go round amongst some two hundred spectators 
with a wooden bowl to collect a few pence. Poor child, 
after each performance he felt ready to cry, and his little 
heart swelled with indignation. His costume, pretty as 
it was, seemed to him a positive disgrace, and the applause 
of the audience made him ashamed. 

He had been brought up so very differently. His 
parents had taught him that children should never try to 
attract the notice of strangers, that good manners consist 
in replying when spoken to, in never speaking first, and 
never showing off any little accomplishment unless told 
to do so. The remembrance of all this added keenness to 
the mortification of poor little Adalbert at being made the 
sport of a crowd of strangers, and having to perform on a 
raised platform for their amusement. 


OPv, FAR FROM HOME. 


119 


Natclies, on tlie contrary, never seemed happier than 
on the days of the great fairs. It was a positive delight 
to him to don his clown’s dress, and as he performed his 
somersaults and antics very well, the master would 
generally testify his satisfaction by giving him some little 
present, such as a gingerbread man, or a big apple puff. 
His generosity never carried him further than that, and 
Natches was very content. To escape beating was a 
pleasure in itself, and to get even the smallest present 
into the bargain rendered his exultation beyond all bounds. 
Of no very high natural intelligence, he had been rendered 
yet more stupid by repressive training, and his occasional 
fits of obstinacy, conquered by blows, were the only 
signs he ever gave of individuality. 

You will now understand how much excitement an 
approaching exhibition caused amongst the strolling 
players. Hercules, his rusty cloak laid aside for a time, 
and his matted locks trimmed and flung back from his 
forehead, would assume a tight-fitting flesh-coloured suit, 
relieved by short dark pantaloons well calculated to show 
off the manly beauty of his mighty limbs. Thus attired, 
it could not be denied that there was about him a kind 
of rude majesty such as we admire in a lion, but from 
which we prefer to be separated by some strong iron 
bars. 

As for Karik, he decked himself out in the most 
grotesque costume he could find, and lost nothing by the 
contrast. Once set going, the boy would bring out one 
stupid joke after another, each one' greeted by a loud 
roar of laughter from the crowd. Even Adalbert was 


120 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


constrained to laugh sometimes, not at Karik’s wit, of 
which he understood nothing, but at the absurd appear- 
ance of the gaping mouths of the spectators, who were 
ready to fling an extra penny to the young rogue who 
amused them so well. 

Little Tilly, in a low body, a very short white and gold 
petticoat, flesh-coloured stockings, sky-blue sleeves, a 
T/reath of roses on her head, pearls on her neck, and brace- 
lets on her arms, looked, as you may suppose, extremely 
pretty. She had a natural air of distinction, her delicate 
complexion added to the charm of her appearance, and 
the master v/as wild with delight when he saw her 
dancing the polka with Adalbert, whilst Karik and Natch es 
produced a horrible hurly-burly of sound called music, 
which did little more than serve to beat the time. 

The best and concluding portion of every programme, 
however, was Gella’s dancing. When she appeared in 
her black velvet costume braided with silver, and made 
her courtesy to the people with a graceful wave of her 
arms, there was a general rush to the platform. Adalbert 
always watched her with a fresh astonishment, bordering 
on admiration. Her black hair was adorned with artificial 
flowers, her large dark eyes flashed with animation, and 
when she smiled she had a very sweet expression. Alto- 
gether there was something imposing in her appearance ; 
she looked like a beautiful Spanish girl, and on fete days 
she went by the name of Gella of Andalusia. She could 
play the castanets very cleverly, and she danced the 
cachoucha splendidly, to the great delight of the specta- 
tors, who clapped and shouted in admiration, and some- 


Oi?, FAJi FROM HOME. 


121 


times even threw her flowers. Adalbert watched her 
with affectionate surprise, mingled with a little shame for 
her. He loved her because she was so good to him, and 
he would rather have seen her at her needlework or 
household duties than amusing a set of common people 
who did not know anything about her. 

The child noticed, too, that if Gella had what was 
called “ a success ’’ that she did not seem happy after it. 
It left her exhausted and out of spirits, and when she had 
put on her old clothes again she would often say to 
Adalbert : 

You needn’t think I throw myself about like that for 
my own amusement, little one. I do it because it’s my 
trade. I’d much rather be like most women, and live 
quietly at home, than be obliged to show off before a lot 
of lazy people who have no more sense than cabbages.” 

After giving vent to her noble thoughts in language 
but little fitted for them, the poor girl would heave a 
heavy sigh, and Adalbert, young as he was, fully under- 
stood all that that sigh implied, and something of respect 
was mingled with his affectionate gratitude for Gella. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

Adalbert would have been the Fourteenth. 

The birds still sang in the leafy shades of Yalneige, they 
alone were unsaddened by Adalbert’s loss, for they had 
never known him. 


122 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


Yes, Valneige was as charming as ever. Nature was 
clothed in all the varied suits of spring. The little 
brook gurgled on as before, the sunbeams tinged the 
fields with gold, the young heifers and the little lambs 
frisked about in the meadows, enjoying the sweet fresh 
air, and rejoicing in being near their mothers. 

At the farm all was activity. The farm-labourers went 
and came, sowing seed, ploughing, and looking forward to 
the future harvest. It was going to be a good year, and 
everybody was glad ; but what a difference there was in 
the house itself, between the peaceful contentment of 
former times, and the constant sadness and anxiety which 
now prevailed. 

These eighteen months had changed everything. The 
boys were at college, and Camilla was becoming a young 
lady, and her mother’s constant companion. Just now 
the Easter holidays were drawing to a close, and the 
whole family would be together for a few days longer. 
Every thing had been done to make these holidays 
pleasant to Eugene and Frederick, that they might carry 
back with them to school pleasant recollections of their 
home. Madame de Valneige knew well enough that 
children cannot bear trouble well, and at their change- 
able age recreation and distraction are positively neces- 
sary. So she took pains to give them all the country 
amusements she could, and made up walking parties and 
picnics, or sent them for long drives. She even had some 
targets put up in the park, where they practised shooting, 
and actually competed for a prize — a prize abou{ which 
there was a great deal of mystery, for no one had seen it 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


123 


but Madame de Valneige herself, or had any idea of its 
shape, size, or name. 

“ What could it have been then ?” 

M. de Valneige was often struck with admiration 
at his wife’s courage. She really seemed sometimes to 
forget her trouble, that there might be nothing to mar the 
delight of the school-boys. His own intentions were as 
good as those of the patient and gentle Adeline, but since 
he lost his boy his health had been so broken down that he 
could not conceal his growing anxiety. He had written 
piles of letters, and taken many journeys without any 
definite result. The horrible doubt as to Adalbert’s fate 
wasted his strength, and he sank into a kind of consump- 
tion, shunning company, and never mentioning his boy’s 
name. The others, out of respect for him, also avoided 
all reference to their common grief, except Eosette, who 
could not help talking at every opportunity of her little 
darling. Even when she was alone the good creature 
would murmur over her everlasting knitting : 

“ If only the naughty little chap had been obedient all 
this would not have happened. A child does not under- 
stand danger, his only safety is in obedience.” 

But whilst these sad thoughts were occupying the 
minds of the elders, the holidays were wearing away. 
There was no arresting their course ; only two days more 
and Frederick and Eugene would have to go back to school, 
and although they seldom mentioned it, this fact was 
never out of their thoughts. Not that they disliked their 
life at school, no, they were not like the naughty, lazy 
boys who would be glad to do nothing all day | on the 

K 


124 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


contrary, tliey lioped to grow up to be men, and were 
ready to learn everything likely to make them useful 
members of society. They were conscious, too, of the 
good results to character of the free and easy intercourse 
with other boys of their own age at school, and, moreover, 
they broke the monotony of their studies by many a good 
wrestling match, the charms of which every one knows 
in spite of the bruises which are generally left behind. 

Only two days more ! Well, they must make the most 
of them, and the boys were disposed to keep close to 
their mother, as if they wished to carry back with them a 
vivid recollection of her every look. 

“Come,” said Madame de Valneige at breakfast, “the 
time has arrived to award the mysterious prize to the 
winner of the shooting match.” 

“ Hurrah 1” shouted the boys, and “ Hurrah !” shouted 
Camilla, out of sympathy with them. 

“We won’t wait till the last day,” added mamma, “ for 
I know that, although we go off at the last in good spirits 
like brave boys, we can’t help feeling too much sinking 
of the heart to enjoy anything thoroughly.” 

“Ah, mother dear, how well you know!” and the 
brothers threw their arms round her neck, whilst she 
smiled up in their faces and said : 

“ Well, I shall give the prizes after dinner to-morrow, 
at dessert.” 

“ What, the prizes !” 

“ Yes, the prizes, there are only two of you, and you 
have both done admirably, often with skill equally 
matched. Your father has kept' an account of the hits 


on, FAR FR03I HOMR 


125 


you have each made, and though one stands higher than 
the other, that other is so little behind him that I really 
can’t let either of you go without some token of honour. 
So there will be a first prize and a second prize, and a 
few friends, and a good dinner, and some champagne , 

Then ensued clapping of hands and shouts of delight ! 
A little party at Yalneige ! It was the first time Frederick 
and Eugene had had such a pleasure for eighteen 
months. They had had plenty of fun, but it had always 
been amongst themselves. Now they were to send out 
invitations to their friends. They quickly chose their 
three favourite neighbours, Paul, Edward, and Christian, 
with whom they were very intimate. Capital fellows, who 
were always laughing, and understood nothing better than 
the good old maxim, “ Play to-day, business to-morrow.” 

They accepted the invitation, and their parents were to 
come with them : there would be a grand dinner. That is 
to say there would be plenty of friendly people round a 
well-spread table, for as to the formality and etiquette of 
what is generally called a “grand dinner,” there was 
never anything of the kind at Yalneige, where, as Eosette 
expressed it, they “ wore their hearts upon their sleeves.” 

The next day there were many merry, noisy scenes in 
the park. Paul, Edward, and Christian arrived quite 
early. There were five of them altogether, just the right 
number for a good romp. Eosette made a futile effort 
to give some of her wise advice at the beginning of the 
day, in the hope of preventing bruises and spoilt clothes, 
but she might just as well have harangued the Yandals as 
they were about to rush down upon a doomed country, 

R 2 


Tm HOUSE ON WHEELS: 


126 

The good old nurse saw how it was, and beat a dignified 
retreat, making the back kitchen a kind of intrenchment, 
where, being unable to see the enemy, there was some 
chance of her forgetting him ; and taking up her ever- 
lasting knitting she stitched away furiously, without a 
moment’s pause. 

The boys pressed TPhilip into their service for the 
nonce, and as he had had a private hint from his master, 
he was ready to oblige them in everything. He even had 
the black horse put into the open carriage, and let them 
drive round the park, with Frederick acting coachman, 
Eugene footman, and the three visitors gentlemen in the 
carriage. 

Other amusements succeeded this. Philip actually 
arranged a sail in the boat — only fancy what a delight ! — 
on the one condition that the little gentlemen should 
give him authority enough to prevent them from going 
to the bottom of the, river. All these pleasures, only 
interrupted by a good lunch, lasted until five o’clock, at 
which time the parents of the young visitors arrived. 
M. and Madame de Valneige received them with the 
greatest cordiality, and at six o’clock thirteen persons 
entered the large dining-room, where dinner was ele- 
gantly served, the servants rejoicing at seeing a little 
gaiety restored to Valneige. 

Everything went on merrily enough, but once Madame 
de Valneige had mrich ado to control her emotion, for 
Edward suddenly oriolaimed : 

‘‘Oh, how fimry, there are thirteen of us* Some 
people are nervous cf sitting down thirteen.” 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


127 


Very absurd of them/’ ^laughed Paul, for I am sure 
we are very comfortable/’ And M. de Valneige, always 
ready to say a word in season to bis children, spoke 
rather strongly on the foolishness of such fancies. 

“ But, papa,” said Eugene, what can have been the 
origin of the superstition ? ” 

“ It probably takes its rise,” replied his father, “ from 
there having been thirteen people at the Last Supper, and 
amongst those thirteen the traitor Judas, who betrayed his 
Master. Horror of the crime of Judas, combined with re- 
verence for the Holy One who suffered from it, most likely 
made the early Christians shrink from making merry with 
a party of thirteen ; but this innocent religious sentiment 
has long ago degenerated into a silly fancy that one of a 
party of thirteen must die in the course of a year, as if 
Gdd had not pre-ordained the exact moment when each 
one of us must appear before Him. With most people, 
however, the prejudice against thirteen is merely an un- 
meaning instinct left by some old nursery tale, and they 
shrink from the fatal number like nervous people from an 
alarm for which they know there is no foundation ; and for 
the rest, none of those present are foolish enough to attach 
any importance to the famous number about which a great 
deal of unnecessary fuss is made.” 

Everybody assented to what M. de Valneige had said, 
and he added with a smile : 

“ As for my wife, I find that, in spite of her strictness in 
religious observances, she is proof against foolish popular 
superstitions. Am I not right, Adeline? Confess that 
you hardly noticed that we are thirteen,” 


128 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


“ You are mistaken, I noticed it to-day for the first 
time.” 

And why, I should like to know ? ” 

At this question Madame de Valneige, generally so 
calm, was visibly agitated ; her eyes filled with tears, and 
without looking at her husband she exclaimed, as if in 
spite of herself : 

“ Because he would have been the fourteenth ! ” 

M. de Valneige sighed deeply, and sank into a melancholy 
silence, and the poor mother, vexed with herself at having 
let this reference to the subject ever in her thoughts 
escape from her, tried to do away with its effects. But it 
was of no use, and the rest of the meal was eaten in silence, 
but for some few remarks from the children, who were 
eager for the dessert to be put on the table, for the sake 
of what was to come with it. 

At last it was there ! Plates of fruit, cakes, and bonbons 
were handed round the table, and then Madame de 
Valneige took the first prize, won by Frederick, from an 
epergne which Camilla had decked with flowers. It was 
a box containing a pretty silver watch with a chain and 
key. The first watch he had ever possessed ! 

We all remember how we felt when we first had a watch. 
Every one does much the same on that great occasion. 
One looks at it on both sides, touches each, opens it, 
holds it to one’s ear. All this Frederick did, and thought 
how delightful it would be to take back his watch to 
school, to wind it up every evening ! Fancy a watch at 
school ! Watch-makers certainly don’t live for nothing ! 
When Frederick had enjoyed his present to his heart’s 


OB, FAB FBOM EOMR 


129 


content, and thanked his mother, the second prize was 
drawn out, and, if the truth must be told, Eugene had found 
the preliminaries rather long. This second prize was a 
good strong purse well filled with silver pieces. Eugene, 
wild with delight, set to work to count them, and made a 
mistake three times, so bewildering are the emotions of 
a capitalist. The lookers-on however could see more 
clearly, and it was announced that Eugene was the owner 
of twenty francs. 

Everybody rejoiced with the children, and even their 
father roused himself from his melancholy mood. The 
party were chatting together in an easy, unconstrained 
manner, when old Eosette suddenly rushed into the 
dining-room in a state of excitement which made her 
forget all ceremony. 

“ Beg pardon, sir,” she exclaimed, “ but the postman has 
just been and left a letter for you. I found it on the 
side-board in the corner between the lamp and the cruet- 
stand. The man must have had a drop too much to leave 
it there, for it’s a queer thing for a postman to do ! The 
letter is a very funny shape too ; perhaps it’s from some 
one like me to give us news of the little one ? ” 

M. de Valneige, much touched by the old nurse’s 
agitation, took from her hands a badly folded letter, of 
coarse paper, on which a scarcely legible sentence, badly 
spelt, and still more badly expressed, was scrawled in a 
kind of reddish ink. 

Madame de Valneige did not move ; the guests anxiously 
awaited what was coming ; whilst Eosette stood by with 
wide-open mouth. 


130 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS: 


At last M. de Yalneige read aloud tlie following words 
in very bad French : 

“ Your little one is well. I am the daughter of the 
man who has him. If you give me your word of honour 
that you will not do my father any harm, I will let you 
see him again. Answer to the poste restante, 

«M. XXX. AtNantua.” 

CHAPTEE XV. 

Adalbert finds out why Gella wrote upon the 
Ground. 

One day when the gipsy party was encamped near 
Nantua, Gella was sent to do some commission in the town. 
She was accompanied by Moustapha, who was to help 
carry back the provisions she had to buy. The one 
pleasure of the poor boy’s life was a walk with Gella, now 
so kind, and on the day in question she said to him as 
they were on their way back : 

“ Come, little one, let’s take that winding path, from 
which you can’t see the ‘ carriage.’ We’ll go and sit down 
somewhere. I have something to tell you.” 

“ What can you have to say to me, dear Gella ? ” 

“ Oh, something very particular. But first you must 
promise me not to repeat a word of our talk.” 

“ Ah, Gella, you needn’t be afraid, why don’t you trust 
me ? Do you think I would do you any harm? Have 
you not noticed that I have not once tried to get away in 
the last six months, lest your father should get in a 
rage with you ? ” 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


131 


You are a good child, I know that. But listen, you 
can’t go on living like this, it must be put a stop to. It 
grieves me too much to think that you have a father, a 
mother, a home, and that you might be so happy.’’ 

“ Of course, I am very sorry too, but what can I do ? I 
love you, you know, and but for my fear that you would 
be beaten — perhaps worse — I should soon be off again.” 

“ Ah, well ! all that will be arranged. Now I am going 
to tell you my secret.” 

A secret ? ” 

“ Yes, a great secret. I have written to your father. ” 

“ To my father ! Why ? ” 

“ To ask him something. You remember how 1 said to 
you one evening: do you really understand, little one, 
what a word of honour is ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, I remember. I told you that it was very 
wicked to give a word of honour and not to keep it, and 
how papa had scolded Frederick because he had given me 
his word of honour not to cheat at billiards, and had cheated 
all the same. Papa was very angry, and he said to my 
brother : ‘ It is easy to see that you do not know what a 
word of honour means. When an honest man gives his 
word he is bound by a most sacred obligation. If, when 
you are grown up, you ever break your word of honour I 
will not own you for my son. In future say Yes or No ; 
that is all that is necessary.’ ” 

“ I remember all about it. And I thought, when you told 
me, the people at Valneige must be good, as they bring up 
their children so well. When they say Yes it means Yos, 
and when they say No it means No.” 


132 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


“ Oil, yes ! tliat is the way at home. No one tells stories 
there. But tell me. What can you have written to 
papa ?” 

Gella still hesitated a little, but at last she looked very 
kindly in the child’s face, and answered gravely : 

“ I asked him to give his word of honour not to do my 
father any harm. He gave it to me, and then, in another 
letter, I told him what fairs we were going to, that he 
may try to watch you when you go round to collect 
coppers.” 

“ Oh, Gella, have you really done all that ? ” 

“ Yes. You have quite touched my heart with all you 
have told me of your mamma, who goes about doing good, 
and of the church where your big sister received her first 
communion. Sometimes in the night I cried and said to 
myself, ‘Wretch, can you let the innocent little fellow 
grow up surrounded by nothing but evil when you might 
save him with a word ?’ ” 

“ How good you are 1 Oh, Gella, shall I really see my 
parents again ? ” 

“Yes, little one, you will see them again.” 

“ But you ? How will you manage not to bo killed ? 
You said . . . .” 

“ Oh, I run no risk if you are taken back when you are 
not under my care. In a crowd, for instance, on an acting 
day. What I have done will make no difference to me, 
for I have confidence in you and in M. de Valneige’s word. 
And you see my father is my father, after all. His ways 
are rough, it’s true, and he doesn’t make me happy ; but 
if he loves any one in the world he loves me.” 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


133 


Does lie ? ” said Adalbert, opening bis eyes in astonisb- 
ment at tbe idea of tbis man loving anybody. 

“ You seem surprised, but I tell you four years ago I 
was ill, very ill, and be was quite distracted ; wby one 
day when be was sitting by my bed be actually cried.” 

Are you saying that for fun ? ” 

No, it’s quite true, and there are a good many men 
like bim in tbe world. Bad they are, but they bave a 
tender corner in tbeir hearts somewhere. I said to myself : 
‘ If I tell tbis gentleman where to find bis boy be will bave 
my father arrested, and be will be tried, condemned, and 
sent to prison all by himself, and I shall be tbe cause. 
The thought of it would kill me. He has often beaten me, 
certainly, but be fed me, and took care of me when I was 
a little thing, and then again, be is my father. But now 
that I bave M. de Valneige’s word of honour I am no 
longer afraid of anything.” 

“ Ob, no, don’t be afraid of anything. My father would 
not deceive you. Ob, I am so happy ! I don’t know what 
to say ; I feel choked.” 

Poor child, I bave been able to do you good service 
then. You bave done so much for me; but for you I 
should not know that there is a Heaven, no one else ever 
told me about it ; I never beard any one but you speak 
of God.” 

But now you know Him, Gella, you can serve Him.” 

How can I serve Him here ? But perhaps I am 
serving Him by separating myself from you for always. 
When you are happy you will forget me.” 

“ Never ! ” replied tbe child, looking up in her face. 


134 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS ; 


“ I shall tell mamma about you, and she will love you 
too.’’ 

“ Thank you, little one, thank you. Ah, when you are 
gone ! Oh God, what shall I do ! . . . ” 

As she spoke Gella gazed up into the sky, as if she 
were beginning to understand something of the things 
that are above, and Adalbert saw two large tears rolling 
down her cheeks. It was the first time he had ever seen 
her weep, and the emotion of one generally so strong and 
rough affected him deeply. The two were seated on a 
green bank in the midst of a wide and silent plain. The 
boy, thinking of his father, mother, brothers, and sister, 
was too much agitated to ^peak ; and Gella, much as she 
had to say, could find no words to express her meaning, 
and alone with God and the little exile she for the first 
time whispered his own name, saying, like little Tilly, 
“ Adalbert, Adalbert.” 

“ Oh, how delightful ! you have said my name.” 

“ Dear child, you will soon hear your mother say it.” 

“ Yes, I hope so.” 

“ I have done all I can, your parents must do the 
rest.” 

‘‘ But how did you manage to write ? I have seen neither 
pens nor ink in the ‘ carriage.’ ” 

“Well, it wasn’t easy, I can tell you; I began by 
carefully saving a bit of white paper in which a shop- 
woman had wrapped some red ribbon for my black velvet 
body ; then I cut a point to a bit of stick to make a pen, 
but for ink 1 really didn’t know what to do. Ink makes 
blots, and they w^ould have betrayed me. I found a better 


on, fah from bome. 


155 


plan than to buy ink. I cut my finger a little and wrote 
with my blood.” 

“ Poor Gella, that must have hurt you ! ” 

“ Oh, nothing to mind. I wrote as well as I could ; all 
crooked of course. But your father managed to read it, 
because I got an answer from him yesterday.” 

“ Oh, show me his letter ! Let me just see his writing.” 

“ You might have known I should burn it.” 

“ Oh, yes, of course ; how dreadful it would have been if 
they had found it. But how did papa manage to write 
your address.” 

“ Well, I was dreadfully puzzled what to do. But you 
know my father sometimes goes fo the post-office for letters, 
and sometimes these letters have only some signs agreed 
upon on them instead of his name. So I thought I would 
do the same, and I succeeded. Oh, what a work I had to 
get to Nantua to fetch the answer ! But I did it at last. 
There’s nothing to do now but to wait.” 

‘‘ When I get back to Valneige how obedient I will be!” 

“ You had better. Your parents never give you any- 
thing but good advice, and you ought to follow it ; mind 
you tell your mamma that I always tried to make you do 
right ; oh, don’t let them think me a regular bad girl 1 ” 

“ Don’t bo afraid.” 

As the time was getting on Gella now rose and hurried 
towards home. As she and her little companion neared the 
“ carriage” they heard a violent dispute going on between 
Hercules and his son, for Karik, rather overdoing his 
imitation of his father, had told too many lies, and had 
carried his love of pilfering so far as to open the drawer 


136 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


in which his father kept his money ; the quarrel waxed 
hot, and as the coarse oaths and the sound of blows reached 
Adalbert’s ears he felt a kind of despair come over him. 
The hopes he had been indulging, and the bright visions 
which had risen before his mind, had made his present lot 
appear more terrible than ever. Afraid of being drawn 
into the affray, he went and sat upon a rickety stool in a 
corner near the door, whilst Gella, who had become kind 
to everybody, managed to soothe her father, and to get old 
Praxede, who delighted to fan his wrath with taunts, out 
of the way. 

When Hercules was not angry with Gella herself he 
often let her have power to keep or restore peace in the 
“ carriage.” The young girl was the one sunbeam which lit 
up the moral darkness of her home. Her father, it is true, 
was capable of any enormity when he was in a rage, but he 
did love her after a fashion of his own, and his “ beautiful 
Andalusian,” as he called her in his rare moments of good 
humour, was the good genius .of his half savage nature. 


CHAPTEE XVL 
Adalbert was there. 

Splendid weather ! No fear of rain. A beautiful spring 
day. 

Blondine, a pretty little maiden of Alsace, between 
thirteen and fourteen years old, had finished her toilette, 
and put plenty of pommade on her hair, and was now 


OB, FAB FBOM BOMK 


137 


waiting in a great state of excitement, jingling her 
little fortune of thirteen sous in her pocket at the 
threshold of her home, for the arrival of her good friends 
Madame Tourtehonne and M. Baptist, who had promised 
to pick her up on the way to the fair at M . 

The time wore on, and the child began to be anxious 
lest anything should put a stop to the long-expected 
pleasure. Yet Madame Tourtehonne, in whose care her 
parents had placed her, was punctuality itself, so she 
must have been delayed by some unforeseen circumstance, 
over which she had no control. 

This is what had happened. In the first place, you 
must know that Madame Tourtehonne thought a great 

deal of the fair at M . For more than forty-five 

years she never remembered missing it once. She 
drove a thriving business all the year round, and the 
three days of the fair she gave herself up to amusement. 
She went determined to be pleased, and as a natural 
consequence found plenty to please her. She was one of 
those good-natured people who laugh just because others 
laugh, and are happy because others are happy. 

' Every year she arranged to go with several neighbours 
in one carriage, for the fair was held some ten miles off. 
This year she had found a capital means of transport, 
even M. Baptist’s tilted cart. They were both well shaken 
up it is true, and old Manon, the horse, took every 
opportunity of stumbling, but at last they arrived. The 
good man, who did not care for amusement, generally 
went to the fair merely with a view to selling his herrings 
and cheese, hoping to meet some well-to-do farmers, with 


138 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


whom he could strike a good bargain ; but this year, alas ! 
he was going because for the last three weeks he had 
had a most dreadful toothache, which kept him awake, 
and he had been assured that a certain dentist well known 

at the fair of M took out teeth without pain. These 

two words had a magic effect upon the country rustics, 
but M. Baptist, though he had gained no graces by his 
residence in a town, had certainly lost something of his 
early credulity, and could not therefore altogether believe 
all that was told him of the man’s wonderful talent. 

This half incredulity made him delay starting as long 
as h.e could, saying it was too early to put the horse to ; 
that his watch was fast; that the horse ought to have 
something to eat ; or that it was thirsty, and so on , . . 
Poor fellow, no wonder he dawdled, for whilst the others 
were going to amuse themselves he was going to the 
dentist’s, and we all know that one is never in a great 
hurry to get there. 

Poor Blondine, after waiting two hours, at last thought 
she heard the unequal trot of old Manon. In a moment she 
had kissed her grandmother, and was climbing into the 
cart, crying : 

“ Off at last ! How delightful I I am so glad, what 
fun we will have ! ” 

But suddenly catching sight of Baptist’s face, she 
stopped her exclamations of delight, and could hardly 
help bursting out laughing* The toothache, so soon to 
be cured, had become absolutely unbearable, and was 
accompanied by such violent inflammation that the un- 
fortunate victim had applied a quantity of wadding to 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


139 


His riglifc clieek, and covered it over with a great blue 
handkerchief tied at the top of his head like a bandage. 
Moreover he had tied a second red handkerchief round 
liis head, over which he wore a white cotton night-cap 
with a silk handkerchief twisted about it like a turban, 
and to crown all he had from force of habit clapped on 
his great fur cap on top of the whole. The effect may 
be imagined ! 

Blondine could not get over it. She looked at her 
old friend Madame Tourtebonne, who had the greatest 
difficulty in keeping her own countenance in sj)ite of 
her genuine sympathy for her poor companion’s sufferings. 
As the slight blows of the whip which had to be given to 
Manon every two minutes compelled the patient to move, 
thereby adding to his sufferings, the good woman took 
the driving into her own hands, and urged on the 
stumbling horse with a continual Gee up, Manon ; come, 
Manon, go on 1” accompanied by a perpetual slashing of 
the whip, all of which was absolutely necessary to get 
Manon — a peaceful brute not fond of change — to move 
at all. 

Meanwhile his master could think of nothing but his 
toothache, which is indeed, as wo all know, a most 
engrossing subject of contemplation. 

Yet there have been philosophers who have denied 
the existence of pain ! You may be quite sure, though, 
that they had good teeth, M. Baptist had a great deal 
too much sense to resemble them, and did not trouble 
himself to deny his pain. On the contrary, he bore 
witness to it every five minutes by crying out, Oh ! Ha ! 

L 


140 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


Yali!” or some sucli expression, betraying only too 
decidedly the presence of tbe enemy. As be was 
naturally very taciturn, be said nothing beyond these 
exclamations, but what could be seen of bis face told 
tbe rest. One cheek as pale as death, one half closed 
eye, one quivering nostril, one corner of a mouth drawn 
down with a piteous expression, were all that could be 
seen from amongst the bandages. No chance now of 
smoking the much-loved pipe, which with cheese and 
herrings formed the only joys of the poor man’s peaceful 
existence. Life had nothing to offer now but shoots 
and throbs of pain ! Alas, poor Baptist ! 

Blondine, in spite of her inclination to laugh, was a 
kind-hearted girl, and pitied M. Baptist very much ; 
and as for Madame Tourtebonne, she would gladly have 
borne half the pain for the sake of giving her neighbour 
relief, and she told him so nine or ten times ; but as that 
was impossible, he only gave her a slow nod of gratitude, 
and kept all his toothache to himself. 

At last they were in the midst of the fair, and little 
Blondine opened her eyes to their fullest extent. She 
spent the greater part of her time in a large meadow, 
looking after her grandmother’s cows, and her life, though 
very happy, was somewhat monotonous. Her delight at 
the life, the bustle, and above all the noise at the fair 
may therefore be imagined. Noise is the chief element 
at all popular fetes, and here there was certainly no lack 
of it. Horses, cows, bulls, sheep, goats, pigs— -neighed, 
bellowed, bleated, and grunted without a moment’s pause. 
Dogs barked in every imaginable tone, and the cocks 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


141 


kept np a perpetual cock-a-doodle-doo, as if trying to 
outdo the crowd, wkicli skouted louder and louder at 
every crow. Oh, it really was delightful ! 

Here a quack offered to relieve everybody of corns, 
there a somnambulist with a bandage round his eyes pro- 
fessed to see more clearly than any one else. On the right 
wise-looking dogs performed wonderful tricks, on the 
left monkeys drew a crowd by their clever imitations of 
men ; whilst here, there, and everywhere were refreshment- 
booths surrounded by customers, which any other day 
would have attracted M. Baptist, who knew that a glass 
of wine hurts nobody, but now, alas ! “ Ho ! Yah ! Ah !” 

But amongst all these delights and all these noises one 
thing was never absent from Blondine’s thoughts, and 
that was the loud summons to come and look from the 
various bands of tumblers or jugglers who frequented 
the fair. This year there were more than usual, and the 
pretty little maiden listened with unaffected delight to 
the resounding hoom t hoom ! from the big drum, which 
meant : “ Come, make haste, they are going to begin !” 

It had, of course, been intended to get a front place, 
so as to see the games, dances, and gymnastics, without 
losing anything. Blondine had been looking forward to 
a great treat, but now she had to be content with what 
she could see as they went along, for in spite of all the 
attractions around, M. Baptist could still think of nothing 
but his toothache. 

Madame Tourtebonne, as a sensible woman, said to 
him : “ Now, my dear friend, if you take my advice, wo 
will at once find the caravan painted red, with a drum 

L 2 


142 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


before it, trumpets behind it, and flags at each corner. 
When once the thing is done you won’t think of it any 
more, and you may at least enjoy some of the fun. Am I 
not right ?” 

Poor man, how gladly he would have contradicted his 
neighbour, but, alas ! she was only too much in the right ! 
So he merely answered hum^ as much as to say, “ So 
be it then.” But for all that he was in no hurry to see 
the horrid red caravan, which was visible enough to 
everybody who had not the toothache. If any one said to 
him, “Look, there it is!” he would immediately be 
anxious to get Blondine some cakes, or he would stop 
to look at a white rabbit, or to listen to some clover 
ventriloquist. 

Blondine, however, was pitiless ; she knew that there 
would be no enjoyment of the fair until the operation was 
over, so she thought of nothing but that, and eagerly 
sought for the caravan amongst the moving masses of 
people. Those who really seek find ; and presently there 
was no avoiding seeing the red caravan surrounded by 
loiterers, most of them with swollen and bandaged faces, 
as if that were the proper costume for admission to the 
receptions held there. 

The quarter of a cheek which M. Baptist had left 
visible became of a more ghastly hue than ever. 

“ Come, it must be done, neighbour Baptist, and besides, 
you know you are a man.” 

These words, spoken in a determined voice by Madame 
Tourtebonne, restored the patient’s courage, and with all 
the eagerness of a man anxious to prove himself no 




fiTmiMc 


M. BAPTIST SOON 


KNEW WUAT Ills TALENT WAS. 

To face page 143. 





02?, FAU FBOM EOMR 


143 


coward, lie puslied his way into the crowd near the 
caravan, and awaited his turn. Suddenly, however, the 
pain in the bad tooth ceased, and he had a good mind to 
go back as he had come, but he was too much com- 
promised, and felt himself bound in honour to go through 
with it. 

Although the quack never ceased to declare emphati- 
cally that he took out teeth without pain, no one left his 
hands without distorted features, eyes full of tears, and 
murmurs of discontent. It was evident that everybody 
felt pain, but for all that the operation would have been 
painless but for some error on the part of the victim. 
One had moved his head, another his foot, one was not 
well prepared, another had been stupid enough to eat 
something a quarter of an hour beforehand. Whilst 
others had long had sore gums, others decayed teeth, and 
so on ; which explanations were never accepted by the 
last customer, but always left a shade of hope to the next 
comer. 

At last M. Baptist ascended the caravan, and there was 
a moment of silence. The celebrated operator — dressed 
like a prince from some unknown land, with a plumed 
cap, muffled sleeves, and so on — this time wasted no time 
in idle words, but with a a dignified air set to work to 
tug with all his might at the luckless tooth, so that 
M. Baptist soon knew what his talent really was. The 
poor man went through all the usual experiences of such 
a moment, unable to utter a word, yet feeling that his 
tooth was going, because there was no help for it, and 
that his head was going with it. 


i44 


THE HOUSE ON WHET!LS ; 


The drum and trumpets meanwhile announced by a 
simultaneous burst of sound that M. Baptist was the 
happiest of mortals, and his piercing scream was drowned 
by their discordant music, all that was heard being a 
rataplan, rataplan, followed by a flourish of trumpets, and 
above it all the shrill notes of a barrel-organ, which had 
been playing the Galop de Gustave ever since the early 
morning. M. Baptist paid his fee and had to hurry down, 
so overwhelmed with custom was the great operator. 

The tooth was gone, there was no doubt of that ; but as 
for its having gone without pain, that was all nonsense. 
M. Baptist, inclined to make allowances, concluded that 
he must have moved without knowing it, and turned 
away with the look of a man greatly impressed, and utter- 
ing not a word of complaint or comment. 

What with the excitement, the shock, and the Galop 
de Gustave^ however, he was quite giddy, and Madame 
Tourtebonne, like a prudent woman, made him sit down. 

Blondine, who was after all only fourteen years old, was 
quite astonished. She had really thought that when the 
thing was once out the good man would pass at once to 
a state of ecstasy, and that he would take off all his 
bandages and wrapping. No such thing ! ^ M. Baptist 
proceeded to add to them his pocket-handkerchief, which 
he perseveringly held to his mouth, declaring he had a 
wretched head-ache into the bargain now. 

What a disappointment ! At first ‘Blondine thought 
they might as well get into the cart again, as everything 
was going wrong ; but the worthy cheesemonger, taking 
refuge in a little temporary restaurant beneath a tent, and 


OR, FAR FROM HOMF. 


145 


resigning himself to his fate, urged his companions to act 
as if he were not there, at which Blondine was vastly 
delighted ; but Madame Tourtebonne determined not to go 
farther than a stone’s throw, and to come back every now 
and then to ask her poor friend how he was, promising, 
moreover, to go back in the middle of the day if the 
pain became unbearable. 

Blondine was obliged to be content with this arrange- 
ment, and it took her and her escort about an hour to go 
over some two hundred yards, so many things were there 
to admire. 

But in all her delight the child kept saying, Ah, but 
what I want to see are the tumblers ; I want to see them 
more than anything.” 

So do I, dear child.” 

“ Ah, I know why ; you are thinking of your little boy.” 

“ So I am. I have been thinking of nothing but him 
since the morning, and last night I dreamt of him, poor 
little darling.” 

“ Do you think you would know him again ?” 

“ Oh yes, I should know him if I saw him close. A 
fair little chap, with the air of a prince, whose name is 
Adalbert. Poor child, I wonder if he has a mother. It’s 
really terrible ! If I had had any children, and such a 
misfortune had happened to me, I should have gone out 
of my mind.” 

And to Blondine’s great astonishment Madame Tourte- 
bonne began to sigh for the children she had never had. 

The conversation having once turned upon Adalbert, 
was not likely to flag, and both kept on saying. 


146 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


“ Perhaps lie is here ! Who can tell ?” 

Suddenly in the crowd they recognised their good 
friends Julian and his wife, who had been sent to the fair 
by their kind master and mistress that they might amuse 
themselves a little. This meeting was most opportune ; 
they determined to keep together, and M. Baptist, relieved 
that the ladies had found another escort, was only too 
glad to beat a retreat. Julian had a conveyance in which 
the four could return home, and so they set to work to 
enjoy themselves quietly, whilst M. Baptist went off, 
intending in a cosy nap to forget the man who had given 
him so much suffering in taking out his tooth without 
pain. 

Those whom he left behind enjoyed themselves im- 
mensely. Blondine spent her fifteen sous : she bought 
some cakes, and politely offered them to the rest of the 
party, drank two cups of cocoa, won an egg-cup in a 
lottery, gave a sou to a blind man, and, like a kind-hearted 
little soul as she was, kept two to be generous with when 
the acting so much looked forward to actually began. 

The time arrived at last, and on every side feats of skill, 
dances, and pantomimes were to be seen. Blondine skipped 
about with delight, but all the time one thought haunted 
her. In every little tumbler she hoped to find Adalbert. 
Madame Tourtebonne and Sophie were both thinking quite 
as much of the “ child of the cellar,” as they called him, but 
the young peasant girl, with the enthusiasm of her age, 
felt absolutely certain that he must be there ; so we see 
all four were possessed with the same idea. Sophie would 
have given something to take back the child to the dear 


OB, FAB FBOM HOMK 


147 


mistress wlio liad grieved so mucli over his fate. Madame 
Tourtebonne pictured to herself the delight of the mother 
on recovering her long-lost child ; Blondine longed 
earnestly for an excitement, an adventure, which would 
not only have been very nice for the people immediately 
concerned, but very amusing for her ; whilst the grave and 
silent Julian, a zealous advocate of justice, had but one 
wish, and that was to point out the infamous gang to the 
police, and have the ringleaders sent to prison for their 
offence, and in this he shared the sentiments of his master. 

Animated by motives so different, the four passed 
several hours in wandering about the fair ; the weather 
was still beautiful, but certain gloomy-minded wiseacres 
kept saying, 

“We shall have rain ! ” 

Blondine thought it was a great shame to say that, but 
one comfort was that nobody took any notice. 

The day was now wearing on, and people began to 
talk of going home. It was of no use for Blondine to 
sigh, they must go back to the town, and in order to do 
that they must find their carriage. Great black clouds 
were gathering overhead, and some ill-natured folks 
ftlready felt drops of rain. When they were some fifty 
yards from the “ carriage,” however, Julian exclaimed : 

“ Oh, there is the beautiful Andalusian ! She is worth 
looking at. Ten minutes more or less won’t make all the 
difference before we start for home.” 

Blondine quite agreed with Julian, and he added, 
“ Look, how beautiful she is ! ” 

“And she dances very nicely too, with the artificial 


148 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


flowers in lier hair,” remarked Madame Tourtebonne, quite 
struck with her easy grace. “ Dear me, if I had to throw 
myself about like that I should tumble down, that I 
should.” 

Everybody was wild with delight, for Gella really 
looked splendid, and was greeted with shouts of “ Encore ! 
Encore !” The poor girl bowed to the audience, danced, 
bowed again, and then, as she was retiring quite exhausted, 
a little fellow dressed like a rope-dancer made his way 
into the crowd with a wooden bowl in his hand. His 
appearance was the signal for departure, everybody moved 
away with an absent air, anxious to retain his neighbour’s 
“ good oj)inion ” without parting with his money. The 
dense crowd melted away as if by magic. The dance was 
over, Gella had disappeared, it was getting dark, and it 
was beginning to rain fast ; everybody was out of humour, 
and a general disorder prevailed. People pushed and drove 
against each other ; the fortunate possessors of umbrellas 
put them up, whilst their poorer brethren spread their 
pocket-handkerchiefs over their heads, and through it all 
the fair-haired little tumbler persevered in collecting his 
paltry pence. At last he approached Blondine, who had 
been watching him for a long time, and the young girl, 
full of her one idea, took him quietly by the arm and 
said to him in a peremptory voice : 

“ You were stolen, weren’t you ? and your name is 
Adalbert ? ” 

The child did not seem in the least astonished, but 
looking into Blondine’s face with an expression of perfect 
confidence, he answered “ Yes I ” 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


149 


“I know you ! I know you ! ” cried Madame Tourtebonne, 
bolding out her arms, an^ the little fellow threw himself 
into them without a moment’s hesitation, as if he knew 
how good and kind she was. Meanwhile the rain poured 
down in torrents, the tumult was at its height, and the 
child was carried off in the direction of the main road 
without attracting more than passing notice. He was 
already stepping into the carriage, when Julian said to the 
two women ; 

“ Go on without me. I shall go and speak to the police ; 
the matter must not end here.” 

“ Never mind the police, but come with us. We’ve got 
the little one, and what more would you have ? ” 

“ Nonsense, nonsense ! We don’t keep up prisons for 
nothing.” 

, And Julian disappeared. At this moment a beautiful 
woman in a peasant’s dress, pale and trembling with 
emotion, rushed towards the carriage, and cried in a heart- 
rending voice : 

“ Is it you ? ” 

At this Sophie, alarmed for Adalbert’s safety, flung 
her shawl over his head, and Madame Tourtebonne said 
to the conductor, “ Let us be off! let us be off! ” 

The horse was urged into a trot, and the poor woman 
who had spoken, after leaning for a moment against a tree, 
fell to the ground in a fainting fit. 


150 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


CHAPTEE XYIL 
Adalbert sees the Cellar again. 

Madame Deschamps^ delight when the little boy was 
brought to her in triumph can easily be imagined. She 
treated him as one of her own grandchildren, and over- 
whelmed him with caresses, showing such a tender interest 
in him that Adalbert, who well remembered the little white 
house, soon felt quite at his ease with her, and great was 
his joy at being able to run about unmolested in a clean, 
pretty, and above all stationary home, after having been so 
long surrounded by dirt and coarseness. 

When Blondine and her good-natured escort at last took 
leave it was with a promise to come and see him soon, and 
Adalbert, who naturally felt warm gratitude to them both, 
looked forward to improving their acquaintance? 

M. Deschamps, a practical man, was at first a little 
incredulous, and disposed to damp the enthusiasm of the 
others, but it was impossible to retain a doubt after he had 
heard Adalbert’s simple answers to the most skilfully 
propounded questions. 

Sophie wanted to take him at once to the cellar, but her 
master would not permit it until he had questioned him 
himself; Adalbert spoke of the coal with which he had 
written his name and that of each member of his family, 
and the yellow ribbon he had thrown upon the ground ; 
he was able to tell all that he had seen in the cellar, to 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


151 


point out tlie place occupied by tbe empty bottles and by 
tlie planks. He also alluded to tlie black-beetles, to the 
rat wbicb bad pierced a bole in tbe door, and it was 
noticed that be shuddered when be again beard tbe clock 
strike, tbe sound of wbicb be remembered but too well. 

When Sopbie, accompanied by ber master and mistress, 
at last took bim down into tbe cellar, be looked about bim 
with an expression of great sadness, gazing long and 
fixedly at tbe bole through wbicb be bad entered the first 
time. Then be related tbe history of tbe star, and told 
bow Gella bad saved bim. 

All this took a good half hour, and M. Descbamps, who 
bad made Adalbert give bim bis parents’ address, next 
proceeded to write to them, that bis letter might be posted 
tbe first thing tbe next morning. Meanwhile Madame 
Descbamps remembered that ber little protege might 
be hungry ; but fortunately for bim Blondine bad fed bim 
with cakes, nuts, and apples all tbe way from tbe fair. 

As Julian bad not yet returned from his search for tbe 
criminals, and Sopbie was wet to tbe skin and bad to 
change everything, Madame Descbamps set to work to get 
some supper for Adalbert herself. She bad plenty of cold 
meat, fruit, and jam in ber larder, but with true maternal 
instinct she thought some nice hot soup and a new-laid 
egg would bo more likely to do bim good, and be could 
follow them up with a slice of cold veal, or anything else 
be fancied, if be liked. She gloated over tbe preparation 
of ber soup and boiling tbe water for tbe egg, and 
every two or three minutes she could not refrain from 
looking into tbe dining-room and saying. 


152 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


‘‘ Oh, decar child ! how happy your mother will be !” 

Adalbert took the soup and the egg, but he could not 
manage anything more. What pleased him above every- 
thing was the little dinner-service, his white napkin, 
his pretty knife, and silver cover. He had lived so 
long amongst poor and miserable people that all these 
things were delightful to him ; he was ready to answer 
fully all the questions that were put to him, and was never 
tired of telling of all they did at Valneige. As he talked 
the “ carriage ” faded from his thoughts like a bad dream, 
and he felt as if he had known the owners of the White 
House for ever so long. Sometimes, however, he would 
sigh and say : 

“ Oh, Gella ! poor good Gella !” 

‘‘You really loved that poor girl then?” inquired 
M. Deschamps. 

“ How could I help loving her ? She was so good, so 
good !” 

Adalbert’s eyes would fill with tears at the remembrance 
of Gella, of whom he thought as of a flower left among 
weeds and brambles. He thought sadly too of good little 
Tilly, and even of Hatches, who, though stupid, was so 
submissive and inoffensive. 

But in spite of his fuH confidence in his new friends, 
the little fellow did not say all that he thought. He took 
care not to talk much about Gella, as he was always afraid 
of doing her injustice, and indirectly betraying her secret. 
He remembered that none of those about him knew his 
family ; that he owed his liberty to the kindness of those 
whom God had thrown in his path ; and that everything 


OB, FAB FBOM ROME, 


153 


had happened quite independently of what Gella had done, 
although she would naturally suppose him to owe his 
liberty to her efforts on his' behalf. 

It was now getting late, and Madame Deschamps, 
anxious that her little friend should rest, prepared with 
her own hands the little bed with white curtains in her 
own room, which was always given to any of the grand- 
children who came from time to time to brighten up the 
White House. 

Before going to bed Adalbert asked M. Deschamps to 
let him write a line at the bottom of the letter which was 
to be'^ent to his father. 

“ I’ll write him a long letter to-morrow,” he said; 

I should like him to see my writing again as soon as 
possible.” 

This idea was applauded as it deserved, and the child, 
who had not held a pen for two years, wrote the following . 
w^ords in a crooked hand : 

My Deae Paeents, — 

It is I. I love you with all my heart. 

“ Your son Adalbeet.” 

Directly afterwards he went up into Madame Des- 
champs’ room. The good woman had purposely put the 
yellow ribbon found in the cellar in a conspicuous place, 
to see if he would recognise it. Adalbert saw it at once, 
and looking at it with invincible repugnance, he seized it 
and flung it to the other end of the room, at which his 
kind hostess embraced and kissed him, eager to atone for 
the pain she had given him. 


151 


Tim HOUSE ON WHEELS ; 


The little fellow then knelt clown and said the prayers 
he had never forgotten, looking up at an ivory crucifix 
which reminded him of one in his mother’s room at 
Yalneige. Once in bed he was soon asleep, and he actually 
never woke until eleven o’clock the next morning ! Every 
one took care not to disturb his rest after such an exciting 
day, Madame Deschamps would not even draw up the 
blinds, but crept out of her own room into that of her 
husband, where she found Julian, who had come back in 
the middle of the night. 

The sound of the eager voices asking and answering ques- 
tions at last woke the sleeper, and without listening he had 
the mortification of overhearing part of the conversation. 

Julian in a cold, stern voice was talking of police, 
fugitives, pursuit, the indignation of the crowd, the curses 
hurled by all the mothers at the chief of the gang ; and at 
last he went on to speak of what Adalbert could under- 
stand, telling how an old woman, the Andalusian, and two 
young children had been arrested, and were now in prison ; 
that the chief and his son had got off, but that orders to 
pursue them had been given, and that there was every 
hope of capturing them sooner or later. 

On hearing this Adalbert burst into tears, and his sobs 
redoubled when Julian added with indifference that the 
Andalusian, in trying to aid her father’s escape, had 
trusted herself on some insecure planks, that they had 
given way, and she had fallen and hurt herself. 

Adalbert, who had a keen sense of honour, was more 
troubled about Gclla than anything else, and he said to 
himself : 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


155 


‘‘ Poor girl, she trusted to papa’s word of honour, and 
now that she is in prison and her father a fugitive, she 
will think that we have deceived her : that I am ungrateful, 
and that papa does not keep his word. Oh what a pity ! 
what a pity !” 

When Madame Deschamps saw Adalbert’s distress 
she could hardly understand it, although she did all 
she could to comfort him. 

Madame Deschamps interfered, and assured the child 
very seriously several times that as the young girl was 
under her father’s control, and had moreover done all she 
could to alleviate the prisoner’s lot, she would not be hardly 
dealt with, but would doubtless be set at liberty as soon 
as the head of the gang had been brought to justice, 
adding that “ As for that wretch, no one need care what 
was done to him.” 

These w^ords but half relieved Adalbert’s anxiety, and 
no one about him knew the real reason for his interest in 
the man who had torn him from all his friends. Julian 
thought and said straight out that he must have some- 
thing wrong with his head. 

It was quite another matter in the afternoon when 
Madame Tourtebonne, truck and all, came to make 
inquiries after the hero of the cellar.” He looked 
so different in his nice clothes with which Madame 
Deschamps had provided him, that she hardly knew him 
again. As soon as she heard that her protege was in 
low spirits about his late companions, the good woman 
exclaimed. 

But, my dear little gentleman, do you mean to tell mo 

BI 2 


156 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


tliat you would not be very glad to know that tbe rogue 
was condemned to tbe galleys for life ?” 

“ Ob, no !’* 

“But just listen. You may feel kindly towards the 
girl, because she has been good to you, and to tbe old 
woman, because her days are numbered, but as for that 
monster — why, if I were in tbe government instead of 
only an applewoman, I’d have tbe beads of all children 
stealers cut off.” 

This speech made Adalbert shudder, but be consoled 
himself with thinking that she was only an applewomaD 
after all. 

As a distraction from bis unexpected depression Madame 
Descbamps took Adalbert into tbe garden, and the sight 
of tbe pond suggested to her that be might enjoy a little 
fishing. She called her husband, and be lent his best line 
to bis little guest, took tbe greatest pains to teach him all 
tbe delicate manoeuvres of tbe craft, and actually, by an 
unheard-of chance, bis efforts were crowned by great 
success. Each little foolish fish which allowed itself to 
be caught was such a delight to Adalbert, that he soon 
forgot all his troubles, the headache of which he had 
complained disappeared, and when he went into the house 
again he asked for pen, ink, and paper to write the follow- 
ing letter : 

“ My Dear Papa and Mamma, — 

“ I scarcely know how to write any more, but I 
must just tell you that I love you more than anything in 
the world, and that I am longing very much to see you 


Ob, FAR FROM EOMK 


157 


and my brotliers and sister, and to kiss you all again. I 
have so many things to tell you that it is no use to begin 
now, for I should never finish. Oh, what a long time it is 
since I saw you ! I am staying with a very good gentleman 
and a very good lady, and I sleep in the lady’s own room. 
She has given me a nice suit of clothes, like other people 
wear. Her husband taught me to fish, and I caught five 
fishes ; they are going to be fried. Oh how nice it will be 
to kiss you again ! What a pity I was disobedient ! 
Everything which has happened to me was my own fault, 
I deserve to be punished ; but if you knew how unhappy 
1 have been ! Gella was very good, I love her very much. 
Dear Papa, don’t let them do her any harm, and don’t let 
her father be put in prison. She has got a bad foot. 
There are some people here who want to have her father 
condemned. Oh, do come quickly, please, do, because of 
what you know, which I mustn’t say, because it is a 
secret, and I am afraid to trust secrets through the post. 
The lady and gentleman here knew that I tumbled into 
their cellar nearly six months ago. I shall tell you 
everything, but I know it will make dear Mamma cry. 
Some things are very funny. There are some people who 
loved me although they did not know me. One is a little 
girl who took me by the arm and called me by my name, 
when I was going round with my wooden bowl. I thought 
you had sent her, so I came with her at once, it was 
raining, I was quite confused. They dragged me to the 
carriage. There was a woman who called out ‘‘Is it you ?” 

“ Her voice sounded like yours, mother dear, but it 
was a peasant woman. But now at last I am saved ; but 


158 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


not at all as 1 expected to be. I suppose the good God 
arranged it all, as He arranges everything. Oh, how I 
love Him ! 

“ Good bye, dear Papa and Mamma, I am very comfort- 
able here, but I am longing to start for home. I send my 
very, very best love to Camilla, Eugene, and Frederick. 
Oh, how happy we shall all be ! I send my love to Eosette 
too, 1 haven’t forgotten her. I love everybody at Val- 
neige — tell Philip, Gervais, and all of them I say so. 

“ Oh. how glad I shall be to see you all again ! But try 
and not let them put that horrid man in prison, so that 
Gella may not be made miserable by me. 

“ Your little Adalbekt.” 

M. Deschamps closed and sealed the little fellow’s letter 
in his presence without reading it, and then sent Julian to 
the post with it. 

In going through the little town the latter met Madame 
Tourtebonne, who was always about in the streets. The 
good woman of course began to talk about Adalbert, and 
when Julian expressed a hope that justice would soon have 
its course, she agreed with him, and said how anxious she 
was for the time to arrive when she and Baptist should be 
called as witnesses, when she would at last be able to tell 
the judges all she knew. 

The worst of it was that M. Baptist had inflammation of 
the face, which so completely occupied his thoughts that 
he had scarcely spirit enough to bring out so much as his 
favourite hum. The very idea of appearing at a trial made 
him pull his bandage further over his face, so that it 


OB, FAB FBOM liOMF, 


159 


seemed likely to disappear almost as entirely as it liad 
done the day before. Always fond of peace and quietude, 
the poor man became absolutely dumb under the influence 
of this unfortunate inflammation, and when his old friend 
kept on urging him to action, he at last by a supreme 
effort brought out the words : 

The little one is found again, and that is all that is 
necessary.’’ 

“ No, it isn’t ; no, it isn’t,” replied Madame Tourtebonne 
as she wheeled away her truck. 

Meanwhile another scene was taking place elsewhere ; 
Gella in her prison was wringing her hands in despair. 
She had done nothing but good to her little companion : 
she had aided his escape, trusting to a promise of secrecy, 
and now she thought herself ruined by the child she 
had loved so much, and in her surprise and grief she 
exclaimed : 

“ What had I done that you should deceive me so ? Ah, 
that is not what you taught me yourself 1 Did you not 
tell me that God wished us to render good for evil?— and all 
of you people at Valneige are rendering me evil for good. 
Your father gave me his word of honour in writing. I 
ought not to have believed in it, but I believed in it 
because you told me they never told lies at your homo ; 
and you have told a lie yourself, you have deceived me» 
My father will be convicted, and I shall be the cause. I 
shall die of grief, and you will have killed me ! yes, you, 
Adalbert!” 

Poor Gella ! She firmly believed that the little French 
boy had been rescued in consequence of the information 


160 


TRE ROUSE ON WREELS j 


slie liad given ; and alone in prison, witli a wounded foot, 
and misfortunes of every kind menacing her, it was no 
wonder tkat her heart gave way. 

But she was not the only sufferer on the evening of 
Adalbert’s escape; some country people hastening away 
from the fair through the rain and confusion saw a peasant 
woman lying insensible at the foot of a tree. She was tall 
and pale, and her white hands contrasted strangely with 
the rustic simplicity of her costume. A man who was 
certainly neither her husband nor her brother was doing 
all he could to bring her to herself. He was not speaking 
to her in the rough and ready style of his class, but as if 
he felt the greatest respect for her : who then could this 
woman have been ? 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

Adalbert was not UngratefuIi. 

Many changes took X3lace in the course of the next ten 
days. Old PraxMe, whose life had long seemed to hang 
on a thread, had succumbed to the shock, and her death 
had caused no very great lamentation. Natches and 
Tilly, whose misfortunes had been related by Adalbert, 
were received provisionally by the iind-h carted inmates 
of the White House. Tilly coughed incessantly, and 
every one manifested the tenderest compassion for her 
sufferings. 


on, lAll FBOil EOME. 161 

The active though secret steps which were being taken 
for the capture of Hercules had been suddenly dis- 
continued, and good Gella, now removed from the prison 
to the hospital, was lying in a nice white bed surrounded 
by all the comforts her condition required. Her mind 
was again at ease, for she now knew that the prisoner’s 
deliverance had been effected by providential j means; 
the chain of events which had led to Adalbert’s liberty had 
been related to her, and, reassured as to the future^ she 
no longer thought, “ They have deceived me.” 

But what was going on at Yalneige? Had not 
Adalbert’s father hurried to fetch his boy on the receipt 
of M. Deschamps’ letter ? Ho. 

Had not his mother at least written to express her 
gratitude? Ho. A reply had, however, been received 
from Yalneige, but it was from Camilla, and in the 
following terms : 

Sir, — 

1 write to you on behalf of my father, who has 
been ill for the last month, and is reduced to great weak- 
ness by fever. Your letter will doubtless restore him 
to health, for his illness was caused by grief for the 
loss of my little brother. My mother would have set 
out immediately on receipt of your letter if she had 
been here, but business of a very important nature has 
compelled her to leave my father and undertake a long 
journey attended by one of our servants. I wrote to 
her this morning, and I put your letter, which will tell 
her everything, inside mine. Poor mother, how happy 
she will be after all her troubles. She will be with you 


162 THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 

in a few days, and you may congratulate yourself on 
having overwhelmed her with ^happiness, restored my 
father to life, and given a whole family cause for 
rejoicing. 

“ My father wishes me to tell you, sir, that my little 
brother spoke in his letter to him of a poor girl called 
Gella, who has been arrested, and who was always very good 
to him. We all wish that she should not suffer at all, 
because she has not only done no harm, but did much 
to alleviate the lot of my brother. My father, hearing 
that she is ill, would like her to be taken to the hospital. 
A magistrate, a friend of ours who lives close to us, 
has written to-day to the authorities at my father’s request, 
to ask them not to take any further steps in the matter 
relating to Gella. 

‘‘May I beg of you, sir, to express to Madame 
Deschamps all we should like to say ourselves, and to 
thank her for the motherly kindness which has made 
our dear little Adalbert forget all he has suffered 
amongst the gipsies. 

“ With respectful compliments, 

I am, sir, 

“ Yours truly, 

“Camilla de Valneige.” 

In the same envelope was a sealed note, addressed to 
Adalbert : 

“ My dear little Darling, 

“ I love you ! I love you I Mamma set off a week 
ago in a peasant’s costume, accompanied by our faithful 


on, FAn FnoM home. 


1G3 


Gcrvais. She meant to go to all the fairs mentioned 
by . . . She was certainly there the day before yesterday, 
but at a distance, and in the confusion perhaps she did 
not see you ; or perhaps she did not know you. 

“Papa is very ill; but he has been better since 
yesterday. Oh, I wish you could have seen him ! He 
asked me twenty times for the letter from M. Deschamps, 
in which you had written a line and signed your name. 
He kept on reading over that line, and shed tears over 
it just as mamma would have done if she had been here. 

“ Don’t worry yourself. No one will suffer at all, and 
we will try and do all we can for the good girl. 

“ I send you twenty, forty]^kisses. I am going to write 
to Eugene and Frederick, who are at school. Our old 
Posette is mad with joy, everybody loves you, and longs 
to see you! Ah, how delightful it will be when you 
are here amongst us all in our own Valneige. 

“ Your sister 

“ Camilla.” 

Adalbert was very much happier after reading this 
letter ; but he took care not to show it to any one. It 
wouldn’t do for people to know that his mother, disguised 
as a peasant woman, was hunting for him at fairs, in 
obedience to the directions of some one. That would 
have been to betray Delia’s secret, and to break that 
word of honour which had been asked and given. A 
word of honour cannot be broken without dishonour. 
In this the good little fellow gave proof of great prudence, 
and the people about him supposed that the Valneige 
family had forgiven everything for the sake of Gella, 


164 TEB HOUSE ON WHEELS; 

wlio had been so kind to Adalbert, and was so much to 
be pitied for being a robber’s daughter. 

As will readily be imagined, this generosity, the real 
reason for which was unknown,- caused some surprise. 
Madame Tourtebonne was almost angry. M. Deschamps 
declared he would not have been so lenient as all that, 
but, whilst protecting Gella as she so well deserved, he 
would have had her father followed up to the frontiers, 
and, Julian added, to the end of the world. 

Madame Deschamps accepted things as they were, 
and gave herself up to amusing" the child, brushing the 
beautiful hair of which his mother had been so proud, 
and preparing nice little dishes for him, good thick soup, 
cutlets, and everything she could think of that was 
nourishing. She often had a chat with him, and made 
him read pretty little stories aloud, the simple words of 
which conveyed many a useful moral. In a word, she 
was a mother, and treated him as if he had been a child 
of her own. 

As for Sophie, she was possessed with one idea. The 
“ child of the cellar ” was thin and pale, she wanted to 
make him fat and rosy; and feeling sure that good 
cooking is the best of doctors, she invented all kinds 
of little tit-bits for Adalbert, in the hopes of tempting 
him to eat plenty and get fat quickly. As she had but 
four or five days in which to accomplish her task, she 
did all she could to hurry it forward, spicing her sauces 
to give him an appetite, and offering him dainty luncheons 
between every meal. 

Adalbert, who had so long been half starved, was by 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


165 


no means insensible to the temptation, and yielding to 
Sophie’s solicitations, he kept on eating pretty well all 
day — glad to forget the hard fare of the caravan. But 
presently ho recollected the good rule at Yalneige. A 
well-behaved child, he had been told some hundred 
times, ought not to eat between his meals, it is greedy 
to do so, and greediness is vulgar. So the third day 
Adalbert told Sophie that he was very much obliged 
to her for all the trouble she took for him, but that now 
he had had so much good food he had quite forgotten 
old Praxede’s soup, and was determined not to eat moro 
than four meals a day, as he did at home with his mamma. 

“ But your mamma is not here now.” 

That doesn’t matter. If I eat between meals I shall 
be disobeying her, and I will never, never disobey my 
parents again.” 

Sophie could not but own that the dear child was in 
the right, and left off urging him. But she saw with real 
delight that he already began to look better, his eyes 
were brighter, and his colour was returning. Happiness 
and liberty, of course, had a great deal to do with the 
improvement, but Sophie attributed it all to her sauces, 
and so everybody was pleased. 

Adalbert had been under this hospitable roof for a week, 
when one day a lady of dignified and distinguished appear- 
ance knocked at the door of the White House, accompanied 
by her servant. Julian opened the door, but before he 
had time to speak to her she rushed towards the child, 
who was playing in the yard with Tom, and folded him 
closely in her motherly arms. Every one hurried to 


166 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


welcome her, and there was scarcely a dry eye* Even 
M* Deschamps was quite upset, and Julian whispered 
to Gervais, who was weeping for joy : 

I’m really all of a tremble. This is more affecting 
than the cannon of Sebastopol !” 

After the first few moments of excitement the party 
repaired to the drawing-room, and with fine tact Madame 
Deschamps said to her husband, “Let us leave them 
alone together !” 

The door was closed, and mother and son were alone. 

Only then did Madame de Yalneige understand the 
full extent of her happiness. She did not speak, but 
gazed at her boy with all her soul in her eyes. She 
seemed, poor woman, to bo resuming once more the 
possession of the child whom God Himself had given 
her. She took his hands and pressed them between her 
own, whilst the hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Her 
son was there, and he loved her ! 

And now once more life was bright and full of ho^^e. 
Madame de Yalneige, forgetting all her troubles, felt as 
if she could never be unhappy again. It was Adalbert’s 
loss which had made her husband ill, and his restoration 
would be the cause of his recovery. Oh, how delightful 
it all was! She was still struggling with her joyful 
agitation when the door opened, and Sophie came in to 
ask if Madame de Yalneige would not like a nice little 
omelette made with a couple of eggs laid but an hour 
ago? Or some biscuits, some sweet wine, or anything 
else ? For Sophie’s one dread was that the people about 
her should become faint for want of food iii all the 


on, FAB FROM HOMK 


167 


excitement they were undergoing. Madame de Valneige, 
as may be supposed, had not the slightest inclination to 
eat an omelette; she declined in the most courteous 
manner, and Sophie’s entrance having broken in upon her 
maternal raptui’es, she asked where Madame Deschamps 
was ? 

The lady in question was then just coming down from 
her room, and Sophie retired to console herself for the 
mistake she had made by offering a glass of wine to the 
faithful Gervais. In this she did but anticipate the 
wishes of her mistress, who never received any one 
without offering the bread and wine of hospitality in the 
good old-fashioned style. But on the other hand, she was 
too well bred and had too much taste to propose an omelette 
or anything else in the midst of a scene so touching 
as that between her guest and her recovered child. 

It is needless to relate in detail all that passed between 
the two mothers. In spite of the difference of rank they 
recognised each other as kindred spirits, and Madame 
Deschamps, looking upon Madame de Valneige merely as 
the mother of Adalbert, felt at once entirely at her ease 
with her, whilst Adalbert, himself was treated with all the 
tenderness and consideration a child of his age required. 

When M. Deschamps joined the party the conversation 
became rather more practical. Hitherto Madame de 
Valneige had thought only of the present : she was now to 
hear all about the past and to discuss the future. She 
was told of all those who had aided in the recovery of her 
boy, of Madame Tourtebonne, Blondine, and the others. 
Everything was repeated over and over again, and still 


1G8 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


the mother was not satisfied. How many tears she shed 
at the relation of the twenty-four hours passed in the 
cellar I She insisted on going down to see the place 
which was so nearly the grave of her child, and she read 
the words upon the wall with a visible shudder. In the 
evening she expressed a strong desire to go down again, 
and then, alone in the cellar with her little Adalbert, she 
placed herself in such a position that she could see the 
beautiful star which had so comforted the lonely child, and 
to which he had given the name of Adeline. 

“Mamma, dear mamma,” said the little boy as ho 
kissed his mother, “ we must find out exactly where it is 
in the sky, that papa may know it and love it too.” 

“ Yes, my boy,” replied Madame de Valneige gravely ; 
“ your father will love it. Neither he nor I will ever 
forget anything that was a comfort to Tyou or did you 
good.” 

And as his mother looked at him with her loving eyes, 
Adalbert crept close to her and whispered in a trembling 
voice, 

“ Is papa no longer at all angry with me 

“ Angry about what ?” 

“ About my being disobedient ? Will he forgive me ?” 

“ My poor child, who could help forgiving you ? Have 
you not been punished enough ? Your father only wants 
to see you to get quite well again. He loves you,- and 
there’s an end of the matter.” 

Then Adalbert threw himself into his mother’s arms, 
and the spirit of opposition completely broken by all he 
had gone through, he exclaimed, 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


16 ^ 

“I promise you tliat I will never, never again be 
disobedient !” 

Long did tbe mother and child, forgetful of all but 
each other, remain in the cellar, each hesitating to be the 
first to destroy the bliss of the moment by saying, ‘‘ Let 
us go.’* The silence and the darkness seemed to isolate 
them from the rest of the world, but at last Adalbert 
ventured to stammer out in a whisper, as if even the 
cellar was not sufficiently private for the revelation of 
his secret, 

“And Gella, mamma? Gella, who meant to save 
me ?” 

“ I will go and see her at the hospital to-morrow.” 

“ Oh, that will be nice ! ” 

But time was drawing on, and they were early people 
at the White House. The clock acted as a curfew-bell, 
and as it struck nine Madame de Yalneige shuddered at 
the thought of Adalbert’s misery when he heard it for 
the first time. 

As the last stroke died away the two wont upstairs 
again, and very soon afterwards the whole parfiy retired 
to rest. 

The stranger was conducted by her hostess into the 
visitor s room, which though small, was beautifully clean 
and neat. In one corner Madame de Yalneige noticed a 
little curtained bed, and fully appreciated the kind 
thought which had dictated its removal into her room. 
Madame Deschamps had felt that she would like to have 
her boy with her. 

The next day Madame de Yalneige, not without excit- 

N 


170 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


ing some little surprise, inquired her way to the hospital, 
saying that she wished to see the good girl who had been 
such a comfort to Adalbert. The road was pointed out 
to her, and she set off accompanied by Adalbert only. 

When Gella saw her come in the poor girl felt over- 
whelmed at the thought of her own wretched condition 
and her father’s crime. The colour rushed into her 
beautiful face, framed with black dishevelled locks, and 
her whole manner betrayed her confusion. 

The child, quite at his ease, rushed up to her and 
embraced her as the only friend he had had in his weary 
exile, and the great lady took both her hands in her 
own as if to reassure her, and sitting down by the bed, 
she talked to her for a long time in a very low voice, 
to which the young girl replied in such a whisper, so 
broken by sobs, that Adalbert could hardly make out 
these last words, 

“ No, madam, no, I am not worthy of so much goodness ! 
To work at Valneige I To have food and clothing, to 
live under your roof and see Master Adalbert every day I 
Oh, it would be too much honour for me ! My father has 
no one in the world but me to nm’se him when he is ill, 
and to earn money for him when he cannot earn it for 
himself. He is getting old, my brother will not stay with 
him, for he has only done so because he was obliged. 
There is no one but me* Leave me to my misery, 
madam. I will work, not as I used to do, for the doctor 
says I shall be a cripple, but I am used to sewing, and 
I am not wanting in courage. 1 shall go and join my 
father, I know where to find him* He ‘has behaved very 


171 


OB, FAB FB031 HOME. 


badly to you, to everybody, even to me, I know, but then, 
after all, be is my father !” 

Madame de Valneige listened in astonishment, and said 
to herself, ‘‘We should beware how we condemn any 
one. There are noble souls to be met with everywhere.” 

Adalbert’s mother then went on to say much that the 
child himself could not have done, telling Gella about 
God and Heaven. In the next few weeks, whilst Gella 
was compelled to remain in absolute retirement, every- 
thing seemed to be possible ; the chaplain would instruct 
her, and her white bed would be to her the cradle of a 
new existence; she would receive her first communion^ 
and learn to know something of that God of whom Adal- 
bert had said, “ He knows everybody’s name and every- 
body’s face.” 

Oh, how more than rewarded she would then feel for all 
her efforts on Adalbert’s account, and how happy she felt 
already when Madame de Valneige, laying her hand upon 
the invalid’s burning brow, said to her : 

“ Be a guardian angel to your father then, and rest 
assured that I will always be your protector. Wherever 
you may be, my dear girl, remember me, and in whatever 
troubles that may come upon you turn to me. I love 
you, and I bless you for all you have done !” 

Gella followed the mother and child with her eyes as 
they left the room, and when Adalbert turned round to 
give her one last look, she said, her heart overflowing with 
gratitude, 

“ Thank you for all the good you have done me I” 


172 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


CHAPTER XIX. 

Adalbert is Obedient. 

Never was there a happier meal. There were fifteen at 
table. Every one was in the brightest spirits, laughing, 
joking, and enjoying everything. Eugene and Frederick 
had come to pass two days at Valneige, having obtained a 
holiday as a great favour on account of the happy event 
which had restored peace, gladness, and health to their 
home. Old Rosette said her dear little fair-haired boy 
had always carried all these good things in his pockets, and 
that he had but to appear to drive away sorrow and 
weariness. 

In fact M. de Valneige had quite lost his fever, and was 
no longer troubled with sleeplessness ; he was pale and 
weak still, but his boy’s presence seemed to be gradually 
restoring his powers. He was advised to travel, and 
preparations for starting were already being made. 
Meanwhile the elders and the young people were enjoying 
themselves together, and all was mirth and happiness. 

Christian and his brothers remembered the dinner at 
which Adalbert would have been the fourteenth, and 
compared the present rejoicing with the anxiety which 
then oppressed every one. 

Yes, Adalbert would then have been the fourteenth, but 
how there were fifteen at table. Beside Camilla sat a 


OBy FAR FROM ROME, 


173 


pretty, delicate-looking child, whose hacking cough and 
sad but sweet expression said as plainly as if she had 
spoken : 

Perhaps it is death coming, and after death, heaven.” 

You will have recognised Tilly, Adalbert’s little friend, 
Gella had confessed to Madame de Valneige out of affection 
to her what she never would have owned in a court of 
justice — Tilly was really a stolen child, who had been 
stolen when quite a baby from a public garden. Nothing 
was known of her parents, they had lost her for ever in 
this world ; but her life could not last long, as her delicate 
chest had had none of the care it so much needed. The 
doctors consulted had said that the end could not be far 
off, and Monsieur and Madame de Valneige had replied, 
“No more loneliness, no more suffering, no more cold ! ” 

Peace, loving faces round her, and all the consolations 
of Christianity were what the little invalid now received 
in return for her compassionate affection for her brother 
in misfortune, to whom she had said the first day of his 
captivity : 

“ Will you have my soup ? It doesn’t hurt me not to 
have enough to eat.” 

As for Natches, who was stolen as well as Tilly, every- 
thing about him, both appearance and character, testified 
to the low origin which Gella ascribed to him. He re- 
mained with M. Deschamps, and was never so happy as 
when he was in the kitchen, going into positive ecstasies 
over a beefsteak or a white sauce. His stupidity often 
made those about him laugh, but he was able to do a good 
deal of purely menial work pretty well. His docility 


174 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


made liim perfectly pliant in the hands of Julian and 
Sophie, so he was made their assistant, and employed to 
draw water, pick vegetables, sweep the yard, wash and 
comb the dog, and so on. In short he did everything 
other people found tiresome, seeming positively to enjoy 
it, and varying his work by occasional graceful somersaults, 
or by telling foolish stories, all of which began, 

“ When I was a clown. . 

He was happy enough, for he wanted nothing but a bed, 
food, and a little kindness, all of which he received at the 
White House, in addition to such instruction as he was 
capable of receiving to teach him how to serve that just 
Master who only requires from man an account of that 
which has been committed to him. 

No one was forgotten, but of course it took time to find 
out how everybody was situated, and how most usefully 
to testify gratitude. At last the day of departure arrived, 
and, in accordance with every one’s wishes, the party made 
for the Ehine, intending to stop and rest at the White 
House, where Adalbert had been so hospitably received. 
It was arranged that the servants who were to accompany 
the family should start a couple of days later, and-Kosette 
was told that she could stay behind if she was afraid of 
taking a long journey at the beginning of winter ; but to 
that she turned a deaf ear, and although she had fixed the 
very time of Adalbert’s restoration for her own return 
home, she now found she could not leave her little darling. 
They let her have her own way, and her packing was soon 
done, her luggage consisting of one small trunk and an 
old bonnet box containing three caps. 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME, 


175 


“ Don’t forget my present, whatever you do ! ” cried 
Adalbert, dancing about before her. 

“ No fear of that ! I value it as I do my eyes, that’s why 
I have hung it round my neck ! ” 

“ Bound your neck ! Show it to me.” 

And she showed him a little box hung on a ribbon 
which was round her neck, and this box contained the 
button and the bit of ink-stained collar which Adalbert 
had brought with him from his exile. The child flung 
his arms round his old nurse’s neck, and gave her a hearty 
kiss. 

They started in the best spirits, a party of five, for Tilly 
went with her kind friends to see what a milder climate 
would do for her. After travelling some hours they 
stopped for dinner, and, as often happened, lingered too 
long over the meal, the train was nearly off, and in the 
hurry and confusion M. de Valneige could not find his ovm 
carriage again, so he said to Adalbert, “ Let’s get in any- 
where we can, we will join your mother again at the next 
station.” 

Adalbert in his hurry jumped into a third class carriage 
by mistake ; the porters were shouting ‘‘ To your cjirriages! 
To your carriages ! ” the doors were being shut, and M. de 
Valneige, springing after his son, said, “ We have chosen 
a very bad one, but it’s only for a quarter of an hour.” 

At the end of the carriage there were several passengers 
who seemed tired, and one of them was asleep. His great 
height, his huge limbs, and marked features attracted a 
good deal of attention. Adalbert looked at him. , , . 
M. de Valneige saw his boy turn pale. 


176 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


‘‘ What’s the matter ? ” he inq^uired anxiously. 
“Nothing, papa.” 

“ Are you ill ? ” 

“ No, papa.” 

M. de Yalneige became anxious, and put a few hurried, 
whispered questions to his boy, who at last, quite frozen 
with terror, got out the words, “ It is the man ! ” 

M. de Yalneige shuddered with horror. The cruel 
tyrant who had caused his boy so much suffering was 
within his reach. Chance had delivered him up to the 
just vengeance of a father who had it in his power to have 
him taken up, tried, and convicted. He had plenty of 
proofs : the button, the spot of ink, the ribbon, the words 
written in the cellar, the depositions of M. Baptist and of 
the apple woman, Julian, Sophie, Blondine, all rose before 
his mind, everything urged him to hunt the man down ; but 
in his pocket-book he had a letter from poor Gella, who 
had trusted in his word. Her scheme had not been carried 
out, it was true, but she had given information in exchange 
for a promise. M. de Yalneige looked at the man, and 
trembling beneath the weight of his sacred promise, which 
bound him for ever, he said to Adalbert, 

“ Oh, my boy, remember that a word of honour is an 
oath that must never be broken on any pretext or under 
any circumstances !” 

As he spoke M. de Yalneige, not yet very strong, closed 
his eyes. It was his turn now to become pale, even his 
lips turned white, and Adalbert gave a cry of fright. The 
faint did not however last more than a minute, some of 
the passengers opened the windows to give the poor invalid 


OB, FAB FBOM HOME. 


177 


air, and everybody looked at tbe father and son with 
compassionate interest. M. de Valneige conquered his 
emotion, and at the next station he and Adalbert got out. 
The man with the iron hand got out too, and did not re- 
enter the train. 

The painful subject was earnestly discussed in the 
carriage containing the rest of the family, and at last they 
arrived at the White House. 

There everything had literally been turned upside down 
in honour of their visit. Beds were somehow provided 
for all, piles of j)lates of all sizes, and a roaring fire in the 
kitchen, for Sophie had surpassed herself. 

The new friends made acquaintance with each other 
with many professions of interest and good-will. Adalbert 
threw himself into Madame Deschamps’ arms, who kissed 
him as if he had been one of her own grandchildren. 
The whole party talked, walked about, and expressed their 
happiness in a thousand different ways. 

Dinner-time came, and everybody ate for two. After 
dinner Adalbert and Tilly played with Natches, who, 
instead of resenting his inferior position, said to them with 
an air of perfect contentment. 

When I was a clown I did not think myself unhappy, 
but now I see that I was very miserable. The only thing 
I regret is that I can’t play tricks at fairs any more. I 
used to think that great fun when 1 was a clown.” 

They went to bed. Mattresses here, there, and every- 
where. Madame Deschamps had managed to arrange 
everything somehow, and although it was a close pack, 
rather like an encampment of the Israelites, everybody 


178 


TEE SOUSE ON WHEELS; 


was quite content. All slept beautifully and awoke re- 
fresbed. 

Tbe next morning Madame de Valneige went to see 
Gella at tbe hospital, taking Adalbert with ber. They 
found tbe poor girl about to receive ber first com-‘ 
munion. Tbe lady bad tbe pleasure of receiving it with 
ber whilst Adalbert knelt close by, and Gella, enlightened 
and purified at last, knew tbe good God of whom Adalbert 
bad told ber — that God of whom it is written that He loves 
tbe work of His bands. 

Tbe invalid was nearly well enough to travel and to go 
and join ber father. Adalbert told ber of tbe scene in the 
railway carriage. Gella’s great eyes lit up as she met tbe 
sweet expression in those of ber little friend, and she 
answered very softly, 

Little one, tell your father I believe in honour now, and 
to try and reward him I will pray for you every day. I have 
nothing to give you but my prayers, but those are yours.” 

When she saw that Madame de Valneige was listening 
she felt ashamed of speaking so familiarly to Adalbert, 
and added, 

“ Forgive me, Master Adalbert, for addressing you so ; it 
is tbe last time. We shall never meet again on earth !” 

And Gella burst into tears. But Madame de Valneige. 
said to ber : 

“ Don’t cry, dear Gella, something tells mo that we shall 
meet again : be honest, be a good Christian, and God will 
be with you. As your infirmity will prevent your leading 
a wandering life in future, I will help you to work either 
as a needlewoman or to open a little shop. Accept this 


/ 


OB, FAB FBOM EOMF. 


179 


money, wliicli will pay for your journey, and leave you 
something to begin business and support yourself until 
your profits come in,” 

As she spoke she handed Gella a note for five hundred 
francs, at which the invalid gazed as if she could not believe 
her eyes. 

“ Madame,” she said, “ you overwhelm me ! . . . but I 
cannot accept this money. It is true that it would be the 
means of saving me, for I could easily earn my living at 
Lyons near my aunt, and perhaps my father, seeing mo 
established in a little trade, would give up his present 
mode of life, of which he is already tired ; but what can I 
say to him when he asks me where I got the five hundred 
francs ? He must never suspect the truth.” 

‘‘You can tell him that a lady who saw you at the 
took an interest in you on account of your misfortunes, and 
that she wished to help you in your arduous life.” 

“ But suppose he wants to know your name ?” 

“You will tell him that they call me a Sister of 
Charity.” 

“ Oh, yes ! and you are indeed Charity itself. I don’t 
believe there can be any one in the world kinder than you 
are. From my childhood I saw nothing but evil, but now 
you have taught me to believe in charity.” 

And Gella kissed the hands of her protectress, and 
gazed in her face with eyes full of gratitude. 

Suddenly Madame de Valneige, impelled by a feeling of 
intense pity and gratitude, exclaimed, 

“ Gella, ! thank you for not having added to my boy’s 
suffering, and for your wish to give him back to me. I 


180 


TEE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


must give you something else to remember us by, and you 
must keep what I give you all your life.” 

She then cut off one of Adalbert’s beautiful fair curls, 
and gave it to the poor girl to be kept for ever. 

“Oh, madam!” exclaimed Gella humbly, “lam not 
worthy of it, but thank you, thank you 1” 

And now the clock had struck, the time for Madame 
de Valneige and Adalbert to leave had come ; and as they 
turned away the poor girl leaned back upon her pillow 
exhausted by all she had gone through, and listened till 
their retreating footsteps died away. 

Madame de Valneige, this pious duty performed, 
returned to the White House, and her husband was much 
pleased when he heard of all that she had said and done. 

The same day a visit was paid to the good people who 
had taken so active a part in Adalbert’s rescue. 

They found little Blondine, whose childish audacity 
had been the immediate cause of everybody’s happiness, 
at home with her grandmother. The happy mother 
kissed her, and during her visit, M. de Valneige having 
prepared everything beforehand, the old grandmother, 
whose only heir was Blondine, became proprietor of the 
house in which she had hitherto been only a tenant. The 
effect of this change on the people around was immense : 
the greatest respect was henceforth paid to the new owner 
of the property, and big Lucas made up his mind to 
ask the little one to dance at the next country fete, 
although she was still looked upon as a mere child. 

The quiet Baptist, who had been slightly roused by all 
this excitement, was introduced to the people of Valneige, 


OR, FAB FROM HOME. 


181 


and it was arranged that he should supply the household, 
farm, and village with cheese and herrings all the year 
round. Moreover he received a present of an admirable 
elixir for soothing the toothache, to which, poor man, he 
was still subject. 

As for Madame Tourtebonne, it was no use hoping to 
find her at home, so she was invited to the White House, 
and Adalbert’s happy parents, by securing to her a little 
competency for her old age, relieved her of the necessity 
of pushing along her truck any more. Her gratitude was 
expressed in glowing words, mingled with the most bitter 
and lively self-reproaches for having said to the driver, 
‘‘ Let us be off! Let us be off! ” when a pale and trembling 
peasant woman exclaimed, “ Is it you ? ” For, as the reader 
will have guessed, that woman was Madame de Valneige 
secretly seeking for her son, and mingling unnoticed in the 
densest crowds protected by her disguise. 

“ It was I. who delayed your happiness, madam,” said 
poor Madame Tourtebonne ; “ I am so sorry.” 

But a moment afterwards, remembering her little 
annuity, she said to Sophie with a radiant face, 

“ I hope I shall be able to enjoy myself, and find some- 
thing to pass the time, now I have nothing to do.” 

Poor woman ! she did try to enjoy herself ; but habit had 
become a second nature, and she soon found that the 
greatest pleasure of her life had been pushing along her 
truck. Accustomed to an active life, the weariness of 
having nothing to do soon became insupportable to her, and, 
like a sensible woman, she resumed her traffic ; but now she 
was able to stay at home on rainy, snowy, or windy days, 


182 


THE HOUSE ON WHEELS; 


and instead of giving away lialf-rotten apples, slie gave 
away good ones : that was her mode of enjoying herself. 

And so Adalbert’s rescue brought happiness to every- 
body. Before leaving the White House presents were 
given to all the servants. It was rather difficult to know 
what to choose for Hatches, who cared for nothing but 
eating, but he got a large bag of sweets. 

The Yalneige family travelled for several months, 
passed the winter in the south, and returned to Yalneige 
in the spring, where they prepared soon to receive their 
good friends, for they were determined to renew the 
remembrance of all that had passed by a few weeks 
spent together every year. How often the two mothers 
talked over all the troubles dear little Adalbert had gone 
through, and how often, as Madame Deschamps had fore- 
seen, did Madame de Yalneige take up and look at the 
yellow ribbon which was a relic of those terrible days ! 

Adalbert grew up very obedient, and now that he is 
become a man he still obeys. He obeys the command- 
ments of God, the laws of his country, the counsel and 
wishes of his parents. He will be the father of a family 
one of these days, and will say to his children as was once 
said to him : “ Children, be obedient.” 

And to all of you, young readers, we repeat that advice. 
It is good, useful, necessary to be obedient. May you 
learn to be so at home surrounded by your friends, and 
not, like Adalbert, in exile and misfortune* 

Finis. 

London; printed by william clotyes and sons, stameopvD street 

AND CHARING CROSS. 

0 ’07 






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